Rise of the Titans
by ibreathethroughwords
Summary: After the Battle of Bilbringi, the remnants of the Empire rally again, seek out new resources, and find they have to battle an incredibly unexpected enemy. You don't need to know Attack on Titan to read it, but you do need to have seen the original and preferably have read the Thrawn Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

"Stay within my line of sight," came the monotone order over his earpiece. "And move two steps to the right – you're blocking Ensign Braus's view of the target." Suppressing his sigh at the instructions issued by Lieutenant Ackerman over the com, Ensign Jean Kirstein casually moved over as instructed, and shifted his weight in just the right way to keep himself from accidentally falling in to Sasha's line of fire if he was knocked over by the large crowd.

The target just up ahead – a powerful and well-respected member of the Rebellion's Assembly – had been carefully selected by Grand Admiral Thrawn and Commander Smith for this mission. She was young, that much was easy enough to see despite the differences in their races. She was too naive, too honest, and well-loved by the tentacle-covered natives of her world. She was a good person, and Jean didn't particularly want to see her killed, but orders were orders and the lives of the many had to come above the life of the individual. This Assembly Representative was decidedly more neutral in her opinions of the war, and had argued for trade with nearby Imperial systems. The idea was popular with the people, but not her fellow politicians – here or on Coruscant.

Her assassination and the framing of one of her chronically less-honest political rivals who frequently argued for more loyalty to the Rebellion government and who was much less idealistic would be enough to jump start the civil war here that those of Lieutenant Ackerman's destabilization squad had been carefully building the population toward for months now. This world was the most strategic foothold the Rebellion had near Imperial territory, and it was essential that the Rebellion's hold over it became less stable while also serving to distract their Inner Council at the moment when Thrawn intended to launch another campaign. This particular planet also had a large military, and supplemented Rebellion forces nearby. Starting a civil war here would make it easier to conquer this planet due to the distraction or destruction of that army by the people, or for Thrawn to use diplomacy and the quiet threat of force to step in and end it, and make the Empire appear heroic in the eyes of the common citizens. It was a good plan, but Jean didn't understand why they couldn't just take the damn planet by storm instead of stirring up the proverbial mynock and watching the chaos unfold.

The only thing they were waiting for was the green light from operations to take her out. Commander Smith was certainly taking his damn time about transmitting the signal. If they didn't move on this soon, they risked her moving out of the location they had so carefully maneuvered her to with traffic problems and a loving crowd wanting all of her attention. She would have to be tailed, the shot would have to be set up again, and the risk of getting caught would be higher with every moment they had to follow her around. Not only did they have to worry about that, but if this dragged out much longer, it could throw off the Fleet's campaign schedule. Then they ran the risk of inciting the Grand Admiral's ire over this, and he'd been monitoring Intelligence closer than usual lately thanks to the sloppiness of the agents on Poderis after their failure to capture Skywalker.

Jean's thoughts were interrupted by Lieutenant Ackerman's voice finally coming over his earpiece. "We've been given the green light. All units be ready to fall back to your assigned extraction points on my mark. Acknowledge."

He checked in with his code name, and listened to the others confirming their understanding of the order, listened to Ackerman give Sasha the order to fire when ready, and shifted just a little further back as he waited on her so he could do his part of the mission. Knowing it could be awhile before she had a clear shot, Jean tried to get comfortable.

Fortunately, Sasha didn't make them wait long.

The weapon she was using was a seriously old piece of junk generously called a 'rifle' that the commanders of the Chimaera's Intelligence section – hell, even the Grand Admiral and Captain Pellaeon – had all fondly referred to as a beautiful antique, as though it wasn't a piece of ancient shit dug up from a pre-space period of some obscure backwater planet nobody cared about anymore. Jean certainly couldn't remember the name of it. Sasha was a natural with a blaster though, good enough to shame any stormtrooper, and was therefore their squad's designated sniper. The only reason she was using this instead of a stealthier blaster was that the rival they intended to frame also collected weapons like these and knew how to use them effectively. The bullets were difficult to come by and harder still to trace, as was the rifle.

Ackerman reminded him briefly not to even move an inch, and Sasha fired as she quickly got a clear shot. Jean felt more than heard the bullet go whizzing passed him and turned to watch the reaction to it. Nobody else seemed to have heard it over the noise of the incredibly crowded marketplace.

There were other benefits to using something this ancient, he recalled as he moved forward to observe and confirm her death once she had fallen to the ground and the bystanders were screaming and fleeing. Bullets didn't cauterize wounds like blasters did. Bullets had a tendency to fragment and go for the heart, and could easily cause someone to bleed out. Just to be certain, however, this bullet had been formed with a metal that this completely unpronounceable species was allergic to.

There was no way she was surviving this.

The screams that erupted from the Assembly Representative's companions silenced the marketplace enough that the lieutenant's voice was softer to avoid his own detection as he gave the order to begin pulling back. Jean had to confirm first before he followed, so he pushed his way toward the front. Out of the corner of his eye Jean saw Marco doing the same, though they were careful not to look at each other. A medic pushed through, finally drawn by the cry for one, and turned the rep's head to get a better look at where the bullet had entered her brain.

Sasha's shot had been right on target. The bullet had hit her right in the middle of her forehead. The medic was one of their permanent Intelligence contacts here, and his job was to discreetly finish her off if Sasha's shot hadn't managed to kill her. After running a medical scanner over her body to check her vitals and brain activity, the doctor pronounced her dead at the scene to the crowd gathered around. The news was satisfactory.

Pretending to be more horror-stricken than he really was, Jean turned away to head to his assigned extraction point at a nearby docking bay facility. He reported in quietly as he walked to report the mission successful via codewords. Their work here was done for now, and if the Commander and the Grand Admiral were correct, this planet was about to dissolve into civil war

and anarchy. While the citizens were busy pointing fingers, Intel's top destabilization unit would watch from afar to nudge it as necessary, safe and sound on the Chimaera away from the inevitable destruction.

– – – – –

The door to the bridge ready room closed behind Ensigns Bodt, Kirstein, and Braus, as Commander Erwin Smith, leader of the _Chimaera's_ Intelligence section and Fleet Chief of the Bureau of Operations, and Lieutenant Levi Ackerman, Commander of the Bureau of Operation's Destabilization Squad exchanged a mutually satisfied look. This operation had gone relatively smoothly, despite the blow the Empire's recent major losses had had on troop morale and efficiency. Losing the Ubiqtorate base that was loyal to the Grand Admiral had reduced the resources Erwin and his subordinates needed to do their jobs, but they had adjusted well and pulled through despite the fact that most of Levi's incredibly talented squad were fresh out of the Academy. That this operation had been a success was as much a testament to that adaptive ability as it was to the raw skill of the young men and women Levi had selected after his previous unit had been decimated at the Battle of Bilbringi.

"They're performing much better than anticipated," Thrawn observed into the silence. "Particularly given their lack of experience." If Erwin hadn't known any better, he would think the Grand Admiral fully capable of mind reading: the man always seemed to know what any of his officers – and even his enemies – were thinking, sometimes even before they did. It was something that had thrown him off balance at first when Thrawn had taken the _Chimaera_ as his flagship over a year ago. With time, he had adjusted to it, and didn't become nearly as exasperated with it as their captain still sometimes could be.

The compliment drew the slightest of smiles from Erwin's lips. "Thank you, Admiral," he replied. "Though I'm afraid Lieutenant Ackerman deserves all the credit for their improvement. He's been working with them one-on-one for the past few months to develop a better idea of their strengths and weaknesses and improve on them. It seems to be working better than the lessons they were taught in the Academy."

Thrawn arched one blue-black eyebrow and turned his head to give Levi an approving look. "I'm inclined to agree. Well done," he praised. "Your results are particularly impressive, given their ages."

Levi wasn't used to being the center of attention, and he snuck a dirty look at Erwin for it because now both Grand Admiral Thrawn and Captain Pellaeon were looking at him. "Thank you, Admiral," Levi replied. His monotone voice was military crisp and precise, as it only ever was in front of specific superior officers or when dealing with his unit. Erwin honestly didn't think he would ever be used to hearing Levi speak like that.

Thrawn favored Levi with a tight smile that gave Erwin the impression the blue-skinned alien knew exactly how uncomfortable Levi was in this situation. If Thrawn was aware of that, then he also could likely see how much conscious effort it still took Levi to behave as an Imperial Intelligence officer ought to behave in front of the highest ranking authority in the whole of the remaining Galactic Empire. "Keep up the good work," Thrawn said, and stood. The other three men stood as well, the military etiquette having long-since been drilled into their heads. "I expect to have everyone's written reports on file within the next four hours."

"Yes, sir," Erwin and Levi replied together and watched their leader and the Captain exit the room.

Levi dropped the proper officer act as soon as the door slid shut behind their superiors. "Are you going to give the order to those brats to get started or do you want me to do it?" he asked, arms folded over the chest of the civilian clothes he'd worn on the surface.

Erwin gave him a fond smile. "If you insist on phrasing it that way then I should definitely make you do it, no matter how badly you want to shower before you get started on your written report."

Levi scowled at him. Though he had lived in the underbelly of Coruscant most of his life amongst the dirt and dregs of the planet-wide city – or perhaps because of it – Levi hated messes and preferred the sterile nature of shipboard life to having to go planet-side to do the Empire's dirty work. It wasn't necessarily that Levi was a germophobe: Erwin's current theory was that dirt and grime reminded Levi of the life he never wanted to live or think of again. Life on an Imperial Star Destroyer was probably the cleanest life Levi would ever find outside of a sick bay.

"You can give the order then," Levi replied, adding what Erwin suspected was a glare.

"All right," Erwin agreed nonchalantly, as though that was what he had been planning all along. They were alone now, so he rested a gentle hand on Levi's shoulder. He had worked hard, and Erwin was inclined to reward him for it, as fond as he was of picking on him. "You're dismissed. Go get cleaned up and file your report."

The acerbic look Levi gave him didn't fool Erwin in the slightest. Levi wasn't mad at all. "Yes, sir," he said, and didn't even bother saluting or waiting for Erwin before he was on his way out the door and into the turbolift to go get a shower. Erwin shook his head and finished gathering up the datacards he'd brought with him before following Levi from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

It was more because his superiors were interested in testing his tactical skills and only partially that no one else had been available that Armin had been the one chosen to lead the small team sent to Wayland. He, Eren, and Mikasa had landed undetected several miles away over a week ago and hiked the rest of the way to Mount Tantiss under strict radio silence. Once there, they had settled in to observe and estimate the damage done to the Emperor's Storehouse. They knew they might have to go up against a group of the treacherous Noghri people if they were caught, and the Noghri – all trained, very experienced assassins – would have the upper hand in a situation where they were on the forest floor. With this in mind, Lieutenant Zoe had equipped them with a variety of new, experimental tech for this mission. Since it had been decided that a small group would have an easier time avoiding detection on a recon mission than a larger, more obvious one would, a large number of the new tech was designed to make defense easier and improve their individual maneuverability in combat situations.

The strangest piece of tech they each wore was designed to give the humans the advantage in a city or forest terrain where their enemies were faster or more agile. It was called 3-Dimensional Maneuvering Gear, or 3DMG for short. A harness made of straps was worn over most of the body to keep muscles and bones aligned properly during high-speed maneuvers. It used a system of grappling hooks and mini-repulsors to fling the user around a combat ground, and they wielded long vibroknives that were powerful enough to cut through most armor. So far, only the Intelligence units aboard the _Chimaera_ had been trained on these, and they were under strict orders not to let them fall into enemy hands. Of the three of them, Mikasa was definitely the best with the 3DMG and the sharp, thick blades that were used with it, but Armin and Eren could hold their own in a fight.

So far on this mission, they had worn them but hadn't needed to use them much. Eren had wanted to use them to get up into the trees, but Armin didn't want to risk one of the Noghri hearing the repulsors firing and having them search the area for them. The Noghri were a hell of a lot stealthier than they were, and would have no trouble sneaking up on them. There was also always the risk that, despite the fact that they were wearing civilian clothes, any of the Noghri here might be from a former Imperial commando squad and recognize them. Though Thrawn had done his best to keep the Noghri and humans separated for the safety of the humans, sometimes it had been necessary for Intelligence to work with the commando squads, either side-by-side, to brief them, or the debrief them after a mission. Even though the three of them were considered fresh out of the Academy, they had still done a considerable amount of work alongside the Noghri.

Being caught here by them could be catastrophic.

Armin had kept their sensors running until they had reached the base of Mount Tantiss, then ordered all detectable electronic equipment be shut off to avoid Rebel scanners. They spent the remainder of the next few days moving around the impressive base of the mountain, avoiding patrols, and occasionally slipping inside through the sewage openings and air vents to estimate what was left. For months, this base had been the Grand Admiral's crowning achievement. Looking at it now, Armin couldn't help but feel anger at what it had been reduced to. They hadn't been able to get to everything inside the mountain due to all the rubble, even with the help of the 3DMG. While the Emperor's treasure rooms were slightly destroyed, there was plenty there to suggest that this couldn't be the only storehouse. Many of the collections seemed to be incomplete, and there were antique vehicles missing from the chronological order in the pre-Empire collection to suggest that there had to be some elsewhere.

As far as the lower floors went, the entire cloning chamber was trashed, but it was possible there was still some things that were salvageable; they just couldn't get to anything to check, and the computer systems were non-operational on that side. They couldn't even really get to the main computer, thanks to the mess the Rebellion had made. The only thing left for them to do was to make a final count of the number of troops stationed here and the attitude of the natives to their presence.

From their current vantage point in the tree canopy, Armin could see a group of Noghri and Rebellion personnel poking around the front entrance now and again, but it was the soldiers he couldn't see that had him concerned. There had been no Noghri warbling or bird calls so far, and tails on them that their eyes or equipment had been able to discern. Still, it would make it more likely for them to be caught if they stayed in one place for too long. The guards wandered away, and Armin gave the hand signal to move. Now was their best chance to examine things from the front entrance. The 3DMG was fast, and they were able to shoot from the trees and from their swing in through the doors without anyone seeing.

The Emperor's storehouse was large, but there was no need for them to go through the entire thing again. Commander Smith had kept the mission objections simple. The first and easiest was for them to get in and out without being noticed. They were also to confirm the number of Spaarti cylinders that were still intact, if possible, and to note anything of interest in the treasure rooms – especially art. Most importantly, they were to activate a secret transmitter that would feed information about the Rebellion's plans for the mountain straight to the _Chimaera's_ Intelligence section. Finally, they were to make it to the throne room if they could and confirm the death of Thrawn's insane pet Jedi, as Captain Pellaeon had put it in the briefing with no small amount of bitterness in his eyes. If there were any Imperial troops being held at the mountain and Armin felt they could be freed without compromising the other objectives, they were to free them, but the other objectives had been specified as the priorities.

It didn't matter, as there weren't any troops there and even the front entrance didn't have much off of it for them to find. There was nothing that Armin could do without working consoles and a large crew to remove the rubble, and he feared they would have to write the entire mountain off as a loss. Activating the transmitter was the last thing they did, once they had confirmed they couldn't get to the royal chambers from here either, and then they were heading back to the ship and off into space.

The entire stay on the planet they hadn't run into any kind of trouble, but the moment they were out of Wayland's atmosphere and driving hard to get out of the gravitational field that the mission started to get a little difficult. As Mikasa angled them away from the moon, a Rebellion frigate came around the opposite side of the planet and put itself on a course to block them. Fortunately, they had plenty of options when it came to direction they could go. Armin glanced quickly at the displays in front of him. They were still well within the planet's gravity field and wouldn't be able to jump to hyperspace for a few more minutes yet.

"They're hailing us," Eren informed Armin as Mikasa focused on staying out of the frigate's turbolaser and tractor beam range. The ship they had been assigned for the mission was marked as a smuggler's ship would be. Intelligence's tech people had even altered the broadcast ID by masking their incredibly secure, fake smuggler's ID with a slightly more obvious fake ID. If the Rebellion's people cracked the first one, they would probably just assume they were, in fact, smugglers. No matter what, there was no way they could let the Rebellion think that Imperials had been here.

"We'll have to try to talk our way out," Armin decided. "Mikasa, keep us out of range of their tractor beams, even if you have to pick a different direction for us to go. Eren, keep an eye on the scanners. They may not be alone out here."

He got acknowledgments, and then pressed the button that would allow Armin to respond to the hail. "This is Captain Amir of the freighter _Gold Lust_," Armin lied. "What can we do for you, Republic ship?"

The voice of the man who answered him sounded middle-aged, overworked, and underpaid. It was definitely a grumpy voice, probably a career officer. "This is Lieutenant Harl of the New Republic frigate _Revolution_. State your business in this system, _Gold Lust_."

"We're just passing through," Armin replied, keeping his tone as brusque and business-like as possible, and definitely not the precise tone and way of speaking that had been drilled into his head by his instructors. "We had to land somewhere to fix a handful of mechanical issues before they became major problems and this was the closest planet. We're headed out to resume our shipping schedule now."

There was a lull between replies – likely the Rebels had figured out that the first half of the ID code – the part that looked legit on the surface – was fake. Eren shifted impatiently in his seat. While they waited for the Rebellion to hurry up and reply, Armin keyed the navicomputer to begin plotting their course for their first jump, then reached over to mute the comm.

"Mikasa, keep taking us out of the gravity well and away from that ship. If we cooperate we'll definitely look like spies to this guy."

Smugglers would make a break for it, and that's what they were going to do.

The irritated voice of the Rebel officer cut back in before Armin could give out any further instructions. "_Gold Lust_, you are to hold your position and shut down your engines."

That wasn't going to happen. Armin unmuted the channel. "I'm afraid I can't do that," he said, putting a carefully calculated note of regret in his tone. Mikasa nursed a little more speed from the engines as the _Revolution_ neared them. They were almost to the edge of the planet's gravitational well, and the navicomputer was nearly finished. "We've been delayed by New Republic ships before – it will interfere too much with our schedule if we just do as we're told."

"They're powering up their tractor beam," Eren reported quietly. "One squadron of X-wings has been launched." His voice was tense. Armin reached over to gently pat his shoulder. Eren had been so quiet and tense lately, it seemed all he and Mikasa could do sometimes was to just reassure him and wonder what the hell had happened on Eren's last shore leave at home.

"We'll be gone before they can reach us," Armin calmly assured him.

If Armin had thought the officer was irritated before, that was nothing compared to how he sounded now. "Smuggler, you are ordered to power down and prepare to be boarded!"

Like they would, even if they had merely been smugglers. The navicomputer beeped, and Armin relaxed a little. "Catch us if you can then," he replied, affecting typical smuggler cockiness in his voice that he didn't really feel. His heart was still racing in his chest. If they were caught, there would be dire consequences.

They hit the limit of the planet's gravity and Mikasa pulled the lever that sent them into hyperspace. The stars blurred around them and Armin heard Eren breathe a sigh of relief. As nice as it was to be away from the ship, it was too soon to relax. "We're not in the clear yet," Armin reminded him as they settled in for the first of the many hops back home.

Worrying, it turned out, had been uncalled for. Five jumps and two days later they had shaken the Rebel pursuers and were finally docking in the _Chimaera's_ hangar bay. It was about damn time too – Armin was ready to be off the tiny freighter and out of civilian clothes. They just felt weird to him now, and he wanted his nice, clean uniform. Armin breathed a sigh of relief as he stood and stretched. It was nice to be back to their home away from home. He and the other two agents shouldered their packs as the ramp lowered and headed down it together. Lieutenant Ackerman was waiting for them when they reached the bottom and took a few steps away from the shuttle. The three of them snapped to attention until their superior waved them down.

"You three stink," Levi observed, making a face at them.

"It was a long trip with no shower," Mikasa reminded him. Her monotone sounded so much like her uncle's, and she looked just as displeased with the fact that they were filthy as he did.

Levi wasn't about to argue with them, it seemed. "Go get cleaned up and file your preliminary reports," he ordered. "The Grand Admiral's given you three hours to do all that. You'll be sent for when he's ready to debrief you. You're dismissed."

The three of them acknowledged the order and practically fled to the turbolift to get back to their rooms for the showers they'd been longing for over the entire trip.

– – – – –

Reading over the three preliminary reports took the better part of an hour. Hearing the full report directly from Ensign Arlert took another hour and a half out of Pellaeon's day and left him feeling frustrated and resigned. It wasn't good news at all. Ensign Arlert had been very carefully selected for this recon mission, and his thorough report had shown that trust had been well-placed. Everyone, including Pellaeon and Thrawn, expected him to go far.

That didn't make the news any easier to hear. After Arlert had been dismissed, Thrawn and Pellaeon had sat in silence for several minutes, each contemplating the ramifications of the situation. Thrawn's original campaign plan had relied heavily on the supply of clones to build up their manpower and lower their need for conscripts to nothing. Now a new campaign plan would have to be developed, and they would have to do it with less men than they had originally planned on having, unless they did manage to find one of these other elusive storehouses – if they even really existed.

It was Thrawn who broke the silence, not surprising, since Pellaeon was loathe to intrude on his superior's thoughts even during good circumstances. "There are possibilities to be had here, and alternatives to explore." His tone was contemplative, though not terribly optimistic. "We do still have the blueprints of the original Spaarti cloning cylinders."

They did, but even repairing the ones that had already been constructed in Mount Tantiss had cost quite a bit. With a shipyard and Intelligence base needing retaken and any lingering damage from the attack repaired, and some of their own capital ships still badly in need of repairs and system overhauls, their purse strings were stretched quite a bit tighter. "The cylinders are likely going to be expensive to rebuild in similar numbers, to say nothing of all those new nutrient frames for all the new ysalimiri we'll need," Pellaeon pointed out. "If we can salvage anything at all from the mountain and move them elsewhere, it might save us some money – but it might be even more expensive to transport them." It was a hunch, but he had a feeling it was one of the things Thrawn was considering.

They had still did have the numbers for a full assault on Wayland, Pellaeon knew, and Thrawn knew it too. That wouldn't be the problem. Digging out the contents of Mount Tantiss, that would be the hard part. "Indeed," he replied softly, and lifted his eyes to meet Pellaeon's. There was a small, approving smile there, and Pellaeon felt a flash of pride for having that look directed at him. "The question, then, is which is going to be cheaper. You'll instruct Engineering to do a cost projection for building 2,000 new cylinders, and another using Ensign Arlert's estimate of the damage and the data his team gathered about the difficulty of excavating. We'll use that to decide whether to build new ones on a safer world or to excavate and move any remaining cylinders on top of building more. You will also instruct Commander Smith to begin searching for a suitable location for a cloning facility in the Unknown Regions." Thrawn paused and took a sip from his mug. "From there we will have an easier time revisiting our plans for the long-term campaign."

"Yes, sir," Pellaeon replied. It was probably the best place to start. No matter what, they needed to reevaluate everything before they could begin making a serious push into the Rebel's territory or to regain their bases. All of that needed to be done before they could even begin to attempt to court the leaders of other branches of the Fleet and the various Moffs that remained over to their side of the power vacuum. Only a good show of progress was going to win the other factions of the Fleet over to their side, and the extra capital ships and people would do them a world of good.

The orders took him only a couple of moments to key in. Engineering was going to _love_ that, he was sure, but they would do their duty, as would Commander Smith.

When Thrawn still hadn't moved to stand or to dismiss the captain after Engineer acknowledged the order, Pellaeon remained in his seat. Something about the look on Thrawn's face held his attention and let him know that they weren't finished here just yet. There was clearly more on the Grand Admiral's mind than what remained of Mount Tantiss. By now, Pellaeon had learned to wait; only in his own time would Thrawn speak his mind. It seemed to Pellaeon as though he was prioritizing, or trying to decide if he ought to say something and how to phrase it.

This time, his patience paid off after only a couple of minutes of waiting, as opposed to an hour or more as it was at other times. "In the meantime, it would serve us well politically to regain our earlier momentum and our main shipyard," Thrawn observed. "What has Intelligence said about the situation there?"

Having just talked to Smith about that this morning, Pellaeon didn't need to look at the report again. "Commander Smith reported this morning that there have been no follow up reports or changes from the last assessment given by Commander Dawk. The Rebels still have full control of the facility, and our own troops that were stationed there are still being held under guard and awaiting processing and transfer to a prison facility outside of our territory. The number of Rebellion ships and personnel there has not changed. Commander Dawk expects they'll be ready to transport our people within the next two weeks."

"Then Bilbringi is where we should focus our attention for now," Thrawn decided. "It seems as though they've more or less settled on the number of troops and ships they plan to keep stationed there to defend the facility."

There was another pause while Thrawn studied Pellaeon's face for his reaction to the news that he intended to go back to regain their shipyard. The Rebellion's attack on Bilbringi had been a topic of tension between then in the days leading up to the battle, and they hadn't really discussed the events that had occurred outside of Pellaeon's initial report to Thrawn when he had been deemed awake enough to talk. Even mentioning it made him a little tense, and he was sure Thrawn knew – or else why would he be studying Pellaeon so closely? Those glowing red eyes glinted as they took in the tightness of Pellaeon's jaw, the way his hand clenched slightly on the surface of the table, and the sudden difficulty Pellaeon had in maintaining eye contact. Thrawn knew. Thrawn knew, and he wanted to gauge his subordinate's thoughts.

When he finally spoke, his tone wasn't the cold accusation of a lack of trust that Pellaeon feared, or even a rebuke for his feelings. Thrawn's deep voice was soothing, clearly an attempt to reassure him about his decision. It shouldn't have been surprising by now – Thrawn had always made an attempt to keep him calm, and assured of their victory, after all – but serving under Vader for so long made dealing with such a different superior a little difficult from time to time. "It may comfort you to know that this time, I would like to make changes to how we go about this."

His eyes were still intensely fixed on Pellaeon's face, still studying him as Thrawn said whatever it was needed to say. Pellaeon raised an eyebrow at the word "changes" and "we", but was willing to hear Thrawn out on this. "You will assist me in developing our full strategy for the attack and long-term defense of the shipyards," he continued. "In addition, when Engineering has delivered their report, you will assist me in developing our short and long-term goals along with a campaign outline to achieve them."

Pellaeon blinked, more than a little surprised by the Grand Admiral's decision. While he had been formally trained in military strategy during his time in the Academy and his decades of service, none of his former commanders had shown anywhere near the same level of interest in developing his tactical and leadership skills as Thrawn consistently displayed. In addition, Thrawn had worked with Pellaeon on certain portions of a battle plan and gone over everything with him thoroughly before any offensives, but he had never requested this much assistance or been willing to allow him to know any details until he had an attack plan firmly set in mind. Coming from a man who Pellaeon had only ever known to play _everything_ as close to his chest as possible, the announcement was a surprise.

It took him a moment to gather himself, during which time Thrawn simply watched him, the corners of his mouth raised minutely upward in amusement as he waited for Pellaeon to figure out how to react. When Pellaeon reacted with a frown a moment later, the smile faded, and Thrawn's eyes narrowed as he tried to discern the cause from Pellaeon's face alone. It was a very sudden change of procedure for a man so determined to do things his own way and in his own time, and while he was used to Thrawn keeping him off-balance, he wasn't sure this was a good thing. Deception had been the norm among the officers before the Battle of Endor, and he knew Thrawn was a master manipulator. Was he preforming so poorly that Thrawn felt he needed additional training and the man was simply trying to phrase it politely?

No, Thrawn wouldn't. After all, he had seen the Grand Admiral execute his men on the spot for their failures. If there was a problem with his performance, or if he needed Pellaeon to behave differently, Thrawn wouldn't have any trouble just outright telling him he needed improvement. Was this a good thing then? Preparation for a larger strategy? Had he done something, perhaps, that made Thrawn feel the need to keep a closer eye on him? Pellaeon opened his mouth to ask, dragged his eyes to meet his superior's –

"No, you're not in trouble," Thrawn replied, tone soothing – but again clearly entertained. Pellaeon resisted the urge to react to the tone by sighing in frustration. How in Vader's name did the man always know what he was thinking? Did his species – whatever it was – have the ability to read the minds of others? "Your performance has been more than adequate, Captain, which is why I am choosing to invest more time in coaching and preparing you."

"Preparing me for what?" Pellaeon asked, still rather surprised by the whole thing, and still a little annoyed with Thrawn for his amusement at his second-in-command's discomfort and uncertainty with this new arrangement.

Thrawn leaned back in his seat, and the amusement faded to be replaced with a more serious expression. "In the short-term, Captain, it is my opinion that you are long overdue for a promotion." The small smile returned as Pellaeon's eyes widened, a natural and honest response to what was – to him – a surprising statement. It was true, yes, but he had scarcely ever hoped for such a thing. "In the long term..."

He trailed off, glanced down at his hands, and then back up at Pellaeon. There was a strange tightness in his face that Pellaeon had never seen before. "In the long run, I feel it's best we prepare for anything our enemies may throw at us." As though admitting to his own mental or emotional discomfort, or that he was somehow unable to look Pellaeon in the eye at the moment, Thrawn looked down at the table. His right hand lifted slightly toward his chest and then stilled, as though he had subconsciously begun to reach for something and then stopped himself. Pellaeon noted the gesture, the accompanying tightening of Thrawn's sharp jaw, and wisely didn't comment on it. Even a few weeks after Rukh's treacherous attempt on his life and aggressive therapy with the ship's psychiatrist, the Grand Admiral still occasionally showed some of the symptoms of PTSD Pellaeon had been warned about by the medics. However their species were similar, they had the ability to suffer in a large number of similar ways.

After a handful of seconds, the episode passed, and Pellaeon could see Thrawn mentally working to drag himself out of the memory and regain control over his mind and body. Thrawn looked up to meet Pellaeon's patient gaze, and the silent appreciation of the captain's tolerance in regards to this ongoing problem. "It seems to me that it would be a good idea for me to begin training a successor," he finished, voice tense, but clearly under control.

So this was in part, at least, about what had happened at Bilbringi, and the instability and severe drop in morale that his death would have caused. No one would be able to take over for him, if that were to happen. Wanting to train a successor was understandable, but... "Sir, if I may ask – why me?"

"Why you?" Thrawn leaned back in his seat, and took a deep breath, finally seeming to be completely calm after what Pellaeon surmised had to have been a flashback. "It's quite a long list, Captain."

Pellaeon leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. "This is a big deal, Admiral. Just this once, I'd like to hear your reasoning before I wholeheartedly give you my support. It's sounds to me right now that you have more faith in being a good choice for this than I have."

That response seemed to have surprised Thrawn. Pellaeon only questioned him when it was necessary, and right now, he was certain that it was. The Grand Admiral studied him for a long moment before responding to him. "You're trustworthy, quick-minded for a human and experienced. You frequently demonstrate integrity and honor, and you are incredibly well-respected and well-loved by your subordinates. You also have the raw talent for strategy – but I'll admit it does need a bit more honing." Thrawn smiled again, a genuinely appreciative smile. "You have also never hesitated to speak your mind to me; indeed, I have never had a junior officer argue with me so passionately with no care for his or her own pride. You are quite blunt in your dealings and emotions, but diplomatic enough when the situation calls for it. More importantly, despite the difference in our species, you do not look down on me and you make an effort to meet my eyes, even when you're afraid of my reaction to something. That is an important quality in someone who will likely inherit an Empire full of diversity. My successor needs to be able to maintain what I am creating, and to do that, he will need to be able to work with a variety of beings. You can do that, and you can do it respectfully."

Well. That was certainly a longer list than he had expected, though he hadn't really expected the Grand Admiral to cave in to his demand. Pellaeon exhaled, surprised, overwhelmed by the glowing accolade, and not quite sure what to say to it.

Perhaps noting his inability to speak immediately following his reasoning, Thrawn leaned forward again and rested his clasped hands on the table. "These are the chief reasons. I am not making a mistake in this. Do you feel more reassured about my decision now?"

He did. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that the captain also felt flattered. It was a lot to take in, but that didn't mean Pellaeon couldn't feel pleased with himself for having managed to impress the Grand Admiral, Supreme Commander of the largest faction of the Imperial Fleet. "Yes, sir," he answered, tone less shocked, but his face no less awed. "If that's how you feel, then I feel more confident about your decision, even if it is a bit overwhelming."

"Perfectly understandable," the Grand Admiral replied, "and not unexpected. In the midst of everything that's happened, I imagine a promotion was not on your mind at all; fortunately, the utter monotony of my lengthy time in sick bay left me with little else to do but consider the future."

It was Pellaeon's turn to try to cover an amused look. By the time the medics were finally satisfied that Thrawn was fit to return to light duty (a vague term that had invoked quite a lot bit of vexation from Thrawn over it's uselessness, followed by a thorough dressing down of the medics because it wasn't as though he had a particularly physically demanding job), he had been attempting to talk Pellaeon on each of the captain's visits to at least bring him a data pad so he could do something useful. Though it had upset Thrawn at the time and put quite a bit more work on himself, Pellaeon had chosen to side with the medics and their definition of "rest", and had refused to smuggle in anything that might have interfered with it. Deciding that, despite the large amount of painkillers in his body, Thrawn might attempt to override his or the Chief Medic's orders, Pellaeon reminded everyone who might come into contact with him in sick bay that by his orders – the order of the Acting Supreme Commander – no one was to cave in to these requests. He'd even gone so far as to order the stormtroopers on guard to search all visitors before permitting them entry once he'd been informed that the bored man had attempted to bribe his orderly into disobeying Pellaeon's orders. Thrawn had been condemned to watching bad shows on the Holonet and looking at art to entertain himself for the duration of his time in sick bay.

Lying still and resting had been trying for Thrawn, as had the half-days of duty that had followed. It had only been in the last two weeks that he had been permitted to fully resume all his duties and his regular schedule. "Then it's agreed that you had plenty of time to think everything over," the captain replied as innocently and diplomatically as he could manage without sounding over-the-top about it.

It wasn't as though Thrawn had gone completely without news or company. Pellaeon had been down for orders, to ask advice, or to give his superior the rare update on their situation more than once – usually two to three times a day – when Thrawn was awake and up to company, and had often been talked into staying for a bit to keep him company. Toward the end of his stay in sick bay, Pellaeon avoided going down any more than he had to. Even Grand Admirals, it seemed, could become quite grumpy and menacing when in pain and trapped in sick bay by the will and good intentions of his junior officers, and Thrawn was _terrifying_ when he was angry.

Thrawn scowled at the reminder of just who it was that had been responsible for so strictly enforcing the rules and wishes of the medics, but the expression didn't have any bite or threat to it. It faded quickly. "Yet another example of your willingness to stand up to me," he said, flashing Pellaeon a quick smile. That seemed to be that. Thrawn stood and so Pellaeon stood as well.

"Come along, Captain," he said, and turned toward the door. "We have much to do."


	3. Chapter 3

Pellaeon left his second private meeting with Thrawn feeling rather stunned. His former superiors had held him back for years due to his sexual proclivities, which were deemed unbecoming for an officer of the Imperial Fleet. It had been years since he had stolen away on leave with a lover. The Grand Admiral doubtless knew his record, but it didn't seem to bother him.

Finished with his duties for the day and ready to sleep, Pellaeon had been on his way back to his quarters when something moving in the shadows of the service corridor that led to the senior officers' quarters caught his attention. That was suspicious – the techs and maintenance staff were never, ever that quiet. Pellaeon fumbled for his comlink, report the activity to Commander Quenton, who currently had command of the bridge. He kept his voice low, ordered him to put extra stormtroopers on guard around the Grand Admiral, and left the line open as he moved forward as silently as possible. If something was here to sabotage _his_ ship, Pellaeon wanted to know about it.

The shadow in the corner moved again as Pellaeon came closer. He froze and wished he was wearing a blaster. To muffle the noise from Quenton's end, Pellaeon covered the comlink with his hand and pressed up against the wall. Focused on the noise in front of him, Pellaeon didn't notice someone creeping up on him from behind until there was a knife to his throat and a hand over his mouth. The hand over his mouth was connected to a gray-skinned forearm that looked unfortunately familiar; the sight made his blood run cold.

There were Noghri on his ship, and he could only hope the extra stormtroopers got to him in time.

Before he could tap his comlink to signal an emergency, the Noghri that had lured him out of sight of the main corridor stepped forward to take the comlink from Pellaeon. It was carefully set down on the ground, still turned on. He gestured for Pellaeon to be silent, and then the Noghri at his back was moving him forward.

It was short walk from there to the service turbolift. They brought him into it, but as he was nudged forward his captor misjudged the step just enough for Pellaeon to brush his hand over one of his code cylinders without the movement being glaringly obvious. After Bilbringi, Intelligence Tech Specialist Major Hanji Zoe had made a special modification to the code cylinders of all command staff, allowing them to be able to send out a distress code by tapping a specific part of it. He was able to tap it once to set off a silent alert that the bridge would pick up on instantly when he attempted to right himself – hypothetically, anyway. No one had needed to use theirs yet outside of the extensive testing she had argued for.

Pellaeon was pulled upright, his hands restrained behind his back, and shoved into a seat as the turbolift began to move. Though he glared daggers at his captors, there was nothing he dared to try with a knife at his throat and a blaster at his head. He forced himself to stay calm and think his way through this. If they had wanted to kill him, Pellaeon would be dead already and his assassins long gone. This had to go beyond that.

Whatever it was, it had to be something bigger than revenge on himself or Thrawn, something where taking a hostage would be advantageous. By the time they had reached the hangar bay and snuck aboard their ship – and how had they even managed to land? – and the alert sirens had begun blaring, Pellaeon thought he had it figured out.

They wanted restitution of some kind.

It absolutely had to be restitution.

The Empire had more or less intentionally destroyed their world at Vader's command, and kept it that way to prolong the debt and use of the Noghri commandos. Thrawn had followed at least that far in Lord Vader's ominous footsteps instead of opting to intentionally fix their world and earn their everlasting servitude that way. Thrawn had instead decided to continue to send the sons of Honoghr to die in place of human soldiers. There was likely more to the story than that – Thrawn had an exasperating habit of playing all his cards close to his chest until the last minute – but Pellaeon had no idea what the rest of the story was, despite his position as Thrawn's second-in-command. Who knew what his reasons could possibly be?

Not him, and he certainly wasn't in a position to contemplate it. Escape wasn't an option, not with so many Noghri suddenly surrounding him as he was restrained in a seat. Pellaeon had to hope that Thrawn would come up with a solution to the situation that didn't involve his death, the death of Thrawn, Pellaeon being turned over to the Rebels, or Thrawn handing out money they didn't have for his ransom. On his own for now, and being mostly ignored by his captors, Pellaeon dwelled on the thought long after they entered hyperspace and left the _Chimaera_ behind them.

– – – – –

Summoned from his private command room by an urgent message from Pellaeon's first officer, Commander Quenton, Thrawn crossed through the doors into the bridge just as the sirens that signaled an intruder began wailing. It seemed the situation had quickly escalated from Quenton's original report. The commander saw him, and immediately moved from his position to meet Thrawn in the aft bridge. The look on his face was gravely serious as he led him off as far away from the crew as they could get without leaving the bridge.

"Report, Commander," Thrawn ordered after taking in Quenton's nervousness, casting his eyes around the bridge to look for the captain. If there was an emergency, surely he would have immediately reported straight back to the bridge.

Quenton took a deep breath to steady himself before he answered. "Admiral," he began, his tone utterly grave, "I believe someone has boarded the ship with the intention of harming or capturing Captain Pellaeon."

Thrawn's eyebrows shot up at the news: no wonder Quenton had refused to say the need for the urgency over the comm. "I see," he replied as evenly as possible. That certainly explained the younger man's urgency and the tension that hung thick in the air of the bridge amongst the crew – palpable even in the aft bridge, well away from the majority of them. "Why do you think this?"

"He had been on his way to his quarters when he notified me of suspicious noises and shadows off the service corridor near his quarters. Captain Pellaeon stayed on the comlink as he tried to investigate – instead of waiting for backup, sir – before his comlink went silent. It was still on, but he wasn't responding, so I sent a squad of stormtroopers to investigate, just before his altered code cylinder began broadcasting an alert to the bridge." Quenton stopped and took a deep breath.

This wasn't sounding good at all. If the worst had happened –

Composed again, Quenton continued, "The stormtroopers found his comlink, Admiral, on the ground outside the service turbolift. He is not in his quarters, and the last person to see him was an Intelligence officer, who says that they chatted in the main turbolift, but he hadn't seen him since the captain got off on his floor. Additionally, all security holos of that area have been isolated from the system. Security and Engineering are working on that now."

This was definitely not good. "Do we know which of the cargo ships in our hangar bays are likely candidates for intruders?"

"Yes, sir," Quenton nodded. "Stormtroopers have already been posted around the nearest possibilities on the off-chance this is merely an attempt at abduction. I have every squad searching the ship, including Intelligence. I also took the liberty of locking down the turbolifts to inhibit their movement, if they haven't already gotten where they wish to go."

Thrawn frowned thoughtfully as he thought through it. They had yet to identify the intruders, it seemed, so trying to predict exactly what they would do was out of the question. There were any number of people who might want to kidnap his second-in-command for one reason or another, but only a few of those people were likely to try to do it right out from under his nose aboard the _Chimaera_. Of those groups, Thrawn could narrow it down to four incredibly likely possibilities. Able to plan now to stop any of them from getting too far, Thrawn had just opened his mouth to give an order when the officer at the shuttle station ahead of them stiffened.

"Admiral!" he called. "One of our shuttles has just launched without permission from the aft hangar bay."

Thrawn turned to the young Ensign seated at the scanning station. Though he was feeling tense, he kept his voice as calm as he issued orders. "Scan that ship – I want to know how many lifeforms are on board and what they are. Helm, get us moving after it. Tractor beams, power up, and draw them in as soon as you have a lock."

There was a tense silence for just over a minute after his orders were given as his crew worked. The _Chimaera_ was moving after it, but there was no way they were going to catch up. "Admiral," the officer at the scanning station said gravely, "I've got a reading on the lifeforms on that ship."

A good look at the young man's face revealed his tension in the tight set of his jaw and the lines around his eyes. "There are nine beings on board, sir. One human... and eight Noghri."

Noghri. Thrawn took a deep breath in, let it out in a quick huff. Former Noghri commandos had slipped on board, kidnapped his second-in-command, and were near to making a quick getaway.

Perhaps sensing his tension, Commander Quenton turned to the crew pit. "Lieutenant Mithel, tractor beam status?" Quenton called.

"Tractor beam is non-responsive, Commander," he reported grimly from his position over the shoulder of the Ensign on duty at the station. "We're in range, and it acknowledges that, but it's not responding to commands. We're working to bypass the system error."

"What exactly is the problem?" Quenton demanded. His eyes flicked to meet the Grand Admiral's as Thrawn moved closer.

The lieutenant shook his head. He looked up from the crew pit and gave them both an honestly frustrated and confused look. "There's a break in the system somewhere, as best as I can tell. It's almost acting as though someone tried to shut it off at the actual tractor beam, but was interrupted before they could power down the whole system."

The commander gave the lieutenant a strange look. "They'd have to have a pretty high clearance code to get through there, are you –"

"Engineering, get a team down there and get it fixed," Thrawn cut in sharply. If they didn't have it up and running by the time that shuttle had enough speed and a route calculated for their jump, they would not be rescuing the captain immediately. It was easy enough to figure out where they were headed, but Thrawn had no desire to go back there if they could avoid it.

It seemed he wasn't going to have a choice. With a flicker of motion, the ship entered hyperspace, and they were gone. "Secure from alert, Commander," Thrawn instructed, feeling the cold anger twisting in his stomach as he stared out the viewport at the spot the ship had last been seen. He turned to head back down the command walkway. "Navigation, plot a course for Honoghr. Communications, inform the deck officer on duty in the forward hangar bay that none of the supply shuttles will be permitted to leave. They'll accompany us until we have answers. All crews are to stay locked down aboard their ships. Commander?" he said, and turned to look at him as the sirens and lights shut off.

"Yes, Admiral?"

Thrawn drew closer to him and lowered his voice. "Send a message to the _Death's Head_, _Judicator_, and _Relentless_. They're to rendezvous with us here immediately. When they arrive, I wish to speak with each of them, on board, in my command room. We'll need a plan of action before we get underway."

"You think they're taking him to their own planet?" Quenton asked softly.

"We can hardly destroy it in retaliation if he's on it, Commander," Thrawn murmured. They had more questions than answers. Why now? Why hadn't they made an attempt on his life instead of kidnapping Pellaeon? What, exactly, did they think they had to gain? More to the point, they needed to know how this had happened. Whoever had slacked off or cooperated with the enemy were going to suffer for a very long time for this.

A glance down at the displays on his command chair as he passed showed they were still picking up the captain's beacon. Good. Maybe it would give Intelligence something to work with. "Commander, you have the bridge. If you need me, I'll be speaking with Commander Smith."

The commander acknowledged, and Thrawn stepped into the turbolift. For the Noghri to get onto the ship in the first place, they would have had to have received help. For them to take out the tractor beam at the source – if that was indeed what had happened – the Noghri would have had to have high-ranking help. That meant this was a job for Intelligence. Their Security people were good, but none of the other Intelligence or Security officer in any of the Imperial factions were as efficient as Commander Erwin Smith. If anybody could get the facts together as quickly as possible, it would be him.

– – – – –

His code cylinders had been taken from him as soon as the Noghri had pinpointed the source of the stray transmission coming from their ship fairly soon after they had entered hyperspace. The Noghri who held him captive would not talk to him, would not let him speak, and handled him roughly. They let him up and out of his restraints once or twice to relieve himself, and allowed Pellaeon very little of anything, even water, over the two day trip.

On Honoghr, the treatment was no better. Being on a planet full of the little gray-skinned assassins had been nerve-wracking enough when the Noghri were blindly following Thrawn's leadership and completely loyal to their alien overlord: now, the control the Empire used to have was gone, and only enmity and mistrust for the Imperials were left in its place. Pellaeon had certainly known how they were being deceived, and had willingly taken part in the deception against the Noghri people. If he was lucky, they would simply kill him or just leave him locked up and whole for Thrawn as a bargaining chip. If he was unlucky, well... Thrawn had done his part to familiarize his second-in-command with the ways of their most useful tool. He could only hope he wouldn't be tried, judged, and punished by the Noghri's standards.

When the shuttle landed in Nystao he was freed from his seat restraints. The wrist restraints were put back on him, hands behind his back, and he was gagged so he couldn't speak. They didn't handle him roughly as he was led down the shuttle ramp, but they weren't exactly gentle with him either. At his age, being confined to a seat for large amounts of time did a number on his back, and he moved slowly and stiffly, which only encouraged his captors to tug him along. He had expected to be taken to the Grand Duhka which housed the Common Room of Honoghr, a larger version of the smaller clan duhkas which were at the center of each village. Thrawn had often held audiences with the clan dynasts here, and Pellaeon had been dragged along to one or two of those.

Instead of taking him there, much to his great relief, Pellaeon was taken straight into the spaceport's communications center. Pellaeon wondered if he had been correct in his guess that their demand would be restitution. If Thrawn had gotten after them relatively soon, then it wouldn't take the _Chimaera_ long to show up. If he hadn't, if he decided not to negotiate, or if the Noghri had done worse things to his ship besides knock out the tractor beams...

Trying not to think about that, Pellaeon tried to pick up anything he could from their conversation. The Noghri were saying nothing in Basic, and the few words he did know made no sense without more context. It seemed the Noghri were doing everything in their power to ignore his existence aside from preventing his escape, and only looked at him to move him along or glare at him.

Pellaeon didn't hear a word of Basic until the _C__himaera_ came out of hyperspace with at least a dozen other support ships and three other star destroyers that he suspected were the _Death's Head_, _Judicator_, and _Relentless_. It was impressive, given the short amount of time Thrawn would have had to assemble it.

One of the dynasts answered the hail from the Grand Admiral when it came. Despite all of Thrawn's mostly successful attempts to familiarize him with the Noghri ways, the names of most of the dynasts hadn't stuck with him. He did recognize Dynast Ir'khaim thanks to the fiasco with Khabarakh, but beyond that he recognized none of the Noghri faces surrounding him. There was one face, and only one face he did want to see, but the Noghri kept him completely out of sight of the hologram pod for a long time. At this distance he could barely hear the conversation, as much as he was straining his ears to listen. There was no way he could get closer either, not with a knife at his back and half a dozen blasters pointed at him at point blank range. When the dynasts finished speaking rather coldly to the Grand Admiral, he gestured, and Pellaeon's guards moved him forward where Thrawn would be able to see the holo of him.

Almost afraid of Thrawn's reaction to the mess he'd gotten himself into, Pellaeon lifted his eyes to meet the Grand Admiral's. There was ire in those red eyes, but it wasn't directed at him. He was gagged, but he and Thrawn could read each other well enough by now to communicate without talking. It was doubtful the Noghri knew that, or they never would have given them the chance to look at each other directly.

Doing the best he could to convey his current state given the restrictions placed on him, Pellaeon nodded slightly to show he was okay when the Grand Admiral's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed slightly in concern. He had been worried, which Pellaeon supposed meant he wasn't going to leave him here to die painfully or be handed over to the Rebels for interrogation. He gave Thrawn the most apologetic look he could muster while gagged, feeling rather responsible for this. It was going to push their campaign completely off schedule. Thrawn's eyes held forgiveness in them, and Pellaeon relaxed for a moment. Just as Thrawn opened his mouth to speak to him, the Noghri pulled him away. Anger filled him, the look in his eyes one of rage and frustration and a little bit of fear as he was tugged away from the hologram pod.

He kept eye contact with the Grand Admiral for as long as he could, pleased to see the look promising cold vengeance in his eyes as he spoke harshly to the clan dynasts. That was a sight he held on to as he was led to a detention cell beneath the spaceport, released of his restraints and gag, and left with nothing but his thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

With every other high-ranking officer's attention focused on the impromptu blockade that Thrawn and Captain Harbid were busy positioning around Honoghr, it fell to Erwin to sort out the details behind what Mike was understating as "The Incident". When the Grand Admiral had come to see him, the first thing they had done was strip all of Pellaeon's access codes from the Imperial computers. On the off-chance the Noghri tried to give the code cylinders to the Rebellion, they would be unusable.

The second thing he had done was to send Mike down to the hangar bays to see if his nose could sniff out which shuttle the traitors had used to get on board. From there it had been easy enough to get Hanji's tech squad down there to inspect the suspected shuttle. There was no crew aboard when they found it, another suspicious thing, as all crews had been locked into their craft and weren't permitted to leave, per the Grand Admiral's orders. The scanning team had determined fairly quickly that there were Noghri skin cells on the ship.

It was also easy to determine how they had left the ship – there was a strange hole cut out in the middle of the cargo bay and into the deck below. This trick had been used by Skywalker and Jade during their rescue of Talon Karrde, and so it was something Intelligence knew to look for now.

Aside from those few, clear cut clues, Hanji was completely stumped. In all the time Erwin had known her, he had only seen her completely stupefied like this a handful of times. It was difficult to be irritated with her when she was so angry with herself for not having this all immediately figured out. She had seemed to be getting pretty upset when she last checked in, so Erwin left Mike to monitor the Grand Admiral's discussion with the dynasts of Honoghr and headed down to the hangar bay to get a more direct update. He found her in the cockpit, sitting in the pilot's seat and going through the flight logs. That she didn't stand when he entered surprised him. The news wasn't good then, if she was too frustrated to follow the strict military etiquette Thrawn expected from all of his people.

"We've been at this for three hours, sir, and we haven't even seen anything suspicious. I had Lieutenant Berner go through the cargo bay logs, and they say the ship was scanned for lifeforms according to our current stringent security measures. The number of crew were also verified by flight deck personnel before the unloading began; again, exactly according to procedure. There were three humans on board, and we have no idea where they could have hidden the Noghri." Hanji waved her hand toward the corridor. "There's no sign of a secret compartment and the lieutenant and I have found no incongruities between the hangar bay records and the ship's."

Hanji sighed and rested her elbow on the displays in front of her and her head in her hand as she twisted in the seat to sit sideways and then moved so the seat swiveled back and forth. It was hardly the way an officer of the Empire should sit, but Erwin was willing to let it slide if it meant Hanji would be comfortable enough to come up with a solution. That didn't mean it would do for him to remain standing while a junior officer and his most likely successor sat around looking relaxed. Erwin sat down in the co-pilot's seat as she continued. "We do know which ship they left in, so Mobl- Lieutenant Berner is comparing our records of this ship to that of the other ship."

He ignored the slip-up. Hanji and Moblit's relationship was probably the worst-kept secret on the _Chimaera_, and if his superiors weren't intent on discouraging it, then neither was he. "Do you have any theories yet?" Erwin asked.

"A few," Hanji answered. She stopped swiveling and slouching to sit up straight (though still sideways in the seat) and face him directly. The way her voice so quickly changed from casual and irritated to gravely serious and military-precise certain got all of Erwin's attention. "The one I think is most likely is the one I absolutely do not want to be true."

It always seemed to be the worst case scenario with them. Erwin had to suppress a sigh. "Which is...?"

After a second of hesitation, Hanji answered him. Her voice was low, still serious, and it felt to Erwin like she was choosing her words very carefully. "We haven't picked up any clear sign of it yet, but if they do have shielded smuggler compartments on this ship, they could have hidden the Noghri there and then let them out when the coast was clear. But since we couldn't find the three Humans reported to be aboard here..."

"That means we likely have Human traitors on board," the commander finished for her, his voice a thoughtful murmur. With a crew of 37,000 to keep tabs on, weeding out the traitors would be difficult, though not impossible. They were Imperials, and Imperials didn't give up, especially in a dire situation like this. The real question was how big the traitors' nest was, and if the traitors would manage to disappear before they could doggedly dig them all out.

Hanji nodded in agreement. "I don't much like the idea, or our chances at finding them before they can do any harm to the ship or the Grand Admiral."

"Neither do I, but it's as good a start as any." It was more than they had to go off of beforehand. Erwin stood, and this time Hanji remembered her military etiquette and stood with her superior. "Let me know the very second you have something concrete," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," she acknowledged with a crisp salute. Erwin nodded in response, and let himself out of the freighter.

Someone had managed to bypass all their security (not surprising – the Imperial Security Bureau was hardly as good at their jobs as Intelligence was), all their procedures, and all their Intel to pull this off. That they had managed to do so on the Grand Admiral's own flagship was an affront to the Fleet, an affront to Intelligence, and reflected poorly on both himself and Thrawn. Fortunately, the number of things their culprit or culprits would have had to bypass to pulls this off narrowed down the list of suspects from 37,000 to just around 300. At least one senior officer had to be involved, which was disheartening, but no one else would have had the security clearance to access the captain's schedule. It was possibly someone from Intelligence, which he didn't want to think about, but he worked with spies, and spies – by their very nature – had to be untrustworthy. Erwin had a way to look and see who had accessed the captain's schedule recently, so he would start there.

Since Palpatine's rise to power it had been standard procedure for Intelligence to use the code cylinders issued by the various military branches to track who was where, and who was accessing which files. Erwin returned to his command office and inserted one of his own code cylinders to pull up the correct file. He skimmed the list of people who had accessed the file – nothing immediately stuck out. Then again, in his line of work, that wasn't unusual. Intelligence officers were used to having to dig around to find information to help put together a puzzle, and Erwin wasn't any different in that respect.

Comparing the list with the names of humans who had come and gone from the _Chimaera_ in the last two days got him nowhere. He examined the list for deleted data – there was none. No one had covered their tracks here. That meant whoever it was was fully authorized to look at it. On a hunch, he cross-checked his list for friendships or relationships with people who had come or gone from the ship recently. He got nothing again, and nothing when he checked it against the list of deck officers on duty since the attack.

Deciding that the hangar bay records might have been compromised, Erwin keyed in an order to one of Hanji's slicers to get started on a thorough examination of the hangar bay's records. That done, Erwin decided to go back over the list of people who had access to the captain again. Perhaps they hadn't accessed it, but simply asked the captain his plans for the day. It was doubtful he would be that forward with his schedule to a junior officer aside from his aides, however, so Erwin dismissed the possibility that it had been a random conversation. It occurred to him that someone could have threatened or ordered another person with authorization to access the file – a thorough interrogation of each of them should sort that out. He issued the order to Levi to have them all questioned thoroughly, save the Grand Admiral.

Erwin's door chimed just as he finished issuing instructions, and he looked down at the screen connected to the security camera to confirm the visitor was authorized to enter. It was just Mike. Erwin pressed the button that would allow his entrance. The door slid open and securely locked itself behind his long-time friend and lover. The greeted each other with grim looks as Mike plopped down into a chair across from Erwin's desk and sighed. He slid into a slouch, a sure sign that he was getting exhausted and bothered too.

"The Noghri definitely have him on Honoghr," Mike reported. "They only let the Grand Admiral look at him for about thirty seconds, but Thrawn claims Pellaeon indicated that he was unharmed so far. Captain Pellaeon is being kept in restraints, and gagged, so he wasn't allowed to speak."

Then how – Ah. Erwin had never seen anybody so adept at non-verbal communication as the two of them were. "What was the outcome of the confrontation?"

"They had been about to actually discuss terms for a negotiation, but a New Republic ship jumped into the system." Mike looked up at Erwin instead of where his fingers had been toying with the arm of the chair.

On the surface it sounded bad, but no alerts had been issued, and Mike seemed pretty relaxed about it, if exhausted. "Oh?" he prompted. "Just one?"

The taller man sat up and leaned forward. Erwin shifted a bit in his seat in response, leaning toward his best friend and subordinate in response. "It's one diplomatic ship only, carrying Leia Organa Solo, Luke Skywalker, and her twins, along with a handful of bodyguards."

Now that was an interesting coincidence. Thrawn had thrown plenty of Noghri lives away trying to capture her and her twins for the thankfully late clone of the Jedi Master Jorus C'baoth. With C'baoth dead and Thrawn's life hanging in the balance, Pellaeon had rescinded the standing orders regarding her capture. Organa Solo would have no way to know that, and neither would the Noghri, as every single code and encrypt assigned to or known by a Noghri had been changed immediately after the Noghri's betrayal. "What's the Grand Admiral doing about it?"

Mike grinned just slightly. "He _oh so graciously_ let her land, and we're jamming long-range communications. The Fleet is holding blockade position around the planet and he reminded them that our gunners are incredibly skilled and he has no issues wasting the entire planet if they do anything stupid. Organa Solo seemed surprised by the situation though, and I think he's toying with the idea of allowing her mediate, if only to get to meet her."

"That should be interesting to watch," he replied dryly, and turned to his computer. "In the meantime, I have another task for you." Erwin transferred the list of names to a data pad and handed it to Mike. "I want you in on these interrogations – the suspects are being rounded up by Levi's squad now. See if you can smell any sign of the Noghri on them or anything weird."

Mike took it and skimmed through the list. "This is a pretty long list. Do you want me to be casual about it, or do you want them to know how much we suspect?"

"Casually, if you please. I don't want everybody to know about your nose, and there's no point in causing any more alarm than we need to."

"Yes, sir," he said, and stood. "Anything else?"

Erwin shook his head. "That's it for now. You're dismissed, Major."

Mike saluted, and left. With any luck, they have their traitors in a matter of hours.

– – – – –

It was hours as best as he could reckon before someone finally brought him food and water. The food, whatever it was, was awful, but Pellaeon was hungry enough to choke it down. The Noghri left him alone long enough after that for the captain to doze off in his detention cell. The hiss of his cell door sliding open woke him and Pellaeon sat up to see Organa Solo standing in the door. Was he going to be handed over to the Rebellion? What happened to the blockade? Had the Noghri already joined the New Republic as an official member world, with all the rights to military protection such a thing implied?

"Councilor," he greeted once she had talked the Noghri guards outside into staying out there.

"Captain," she returned with a cordial nod. "May I sit with you?"

Enemy or not, it would be rude to deny a new mother a seat – and wasn't exactly in a position to refuse. "Not at all," he returned politely. Pellaeon studied her face as she sat at the opposite end of the slab that one could generously label a bed. Did she blame him or hate him for the Empire's attempts to kidnap her and her twins? There was a way to find out, he supposed. There couldn't be in harming in probing the subject. What were they going to do? Lock him up? "How are your children?"

She gave him a tight smile. There was no hatred there, but she was definitely on her guard at the mention of the babies. "They're doing well, thank you, and growing like weeds already." Organa Solo studied his face in return for a moment, and smoothly changed the topic. "I've come to explain the situation to you, as I understand your captors haven't exactly been forthcoming."

Better her than one of those damn Noghri in here with him. Pellaeon had a million questions about the situation, but quickly prioritized them. There was one thing he needed to know that was more important than anything else. "What happened to the blockade?" he asked, primarily concerned for the safety of the Grand Admiral and the officers and crew in their combined charge.

"It's still in place," she assured. "And unchallenged. I spoke directly with Grand Admiral Thrawn when my ship jumped into the system and he allowed us to land."

Pellaeon relaxed a little at the news. "What about your fleet? Are they coming to destroy us? Why are you here?"

She shook her head. "No. The Noghri have not yet petitioned for membership, and there's no way I could get a communication out to them right now with your superior jamming all long-range communications. This is between the Noghri and the Empire – I just came here on an unrelated errand."

Whether it was true or not, it was awfully convenient timing. "Have the Noghri told you why they've taken me hostage?" Pellaeon wanted to know if his guess about restitution was correct, but he hoped the Grand Admiral wouldn't agree to such a stupid thing.

Organa Solo nodded. "Yes. They tell me that they intend to hold you for leverage to force Thrawn into paying restitution for the damage intentionally done to Honoghr, the purposeful deception perpetrated by the Empire, and the deaths of their sons in a war that wasn't theirs to fight."

The Noghri might as well just kill him. In no way could the Empire afford to pay it right now, with the Fleet and systems still fractured amongst the remaining warlords and Moffs. Being right was incredibly disappointing at times. Pellaeon was careful to keep the dismay off his face. There would have to be one hell of a benefit to agreeing to convince Thrawn to pay it. It also seemed a little strange to him that the Noghri would want their money. Had someone talked them into it?

"Is that all they've asked for?" he asked, careful not to betray his suspicions. Surely it couldn't just be money they were after, not a proud race like this.

"No," Organa Solo shook her head. "They want the Empire to cease your attempts to kidnap me, my children, and my brother."

They didn't know? Pellaeon raised an eyebrow. "I rescinded that order when the full scope of what had happened to C'baoth reached the _Chimaera_. There's no point in trying to kidnap you and wasting resources without an insane Jedi Master to keep pacified and under control," Pellaeon pointed out. It was only years of long practice kept the bitterness out of his voice when mentioning C'baoth. "Those resources are better employed elsewhere, and as neither of us have anything personal against you or your family, it would be absolutely senseless to continue to pursue you."

She frowned, as though she wanted to believe him but was erring on the side of caution. "That was the entire reason?"

There had been other, minor reasons, but none of them were anything he could get away with discussing. Right now, he needed to give her enough just enough to convince her to trust him, to lower their defenses here so he could escape. Thrawn would forgive him this conversation, but not if he kept going through it with a loose tongue. With no other recourse, Pellaeon nodded. "He had to be controlled somehow, and in instances where ysalamiri could not be used, another method had to be utilized."

The councilor nodded slowly. "I see," she said. "That's good news, I suppose, provided you're telling the truth."

Deciding to use one of Thrawn's favorite tactics to use when reasoning with Pellaeon, the captain lifted an eyebrow and looked at her mildly, as though that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard and was trying to be polite in his rebuke. "What reason do I have to lie to you, Councilor Organa Solo?" None, for now, at least. "The Noghri hold all the cards right now. I know this race well enough to know that if I'm caught in such a grievous lie, they might very well decide that killing me is restitution enough."

She looked away, and Pellaeon decided that he'd won that one, and a slight change of topic was in order. He was dying to know why the Noghri had been expecting her and guarding her for awhile now. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" he asked.

The councilor shook her head. "Not at all."

He leaned forward a little, curious as to whether or not she would be forthright with him in return for his own honesty. "I'm rather interested in hearing what happened on Kashyyyk, and how the Noghri came to discover Lord Vader's betrayal and long-term deception."

Intelligence hadn't even been able to piece it all together, and the puzzle had been bothering him. Thankfully, Organa Solo laid it all out for him – her deal with Khabarakh to let her meet his people, her demonstration of the chemicals within the decon droid, the fact that she was Lord Vader's daughter... Pellaeon shook his head in disbelief when she had finished. In hindsight, the mistakes both he and the Grand Admiral had made were very obvious. Thrawn, he knew, would be interested in hearing what exactly had gone wrong. No matter what happened to him, Pellaeon needed to get this report back to Thrawn. It could very well be the last thing he did as an officer of the Imperial Fleet.

The door slid open, and there was the elusive Khabarakh clan Khim'bar. He and the captain locked eyes for a moment, and then the former commando turned his attention to Organa Solo. "Grand Admiral Thrawn is requesting to speak with you, Lady Vader," he said, and his eyes darted back to Pellaeon, who was determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction to the summons.

She rose gracefully. "I'll be there momentarily," she said, and waited until Khabarakh bowed out of the room to turn to Pellaeon. Her smile, though polite and somewhat forced, was not unkind. "Try and get some sleep," she suggested. "You've had a long day."

He nodded, and bade her farewell, and settled in to try to get some rest.


	5. Chapter 5

It had taken all four-plus hours of the interrogations for Mike to determine that none of the suspects on Erwin's list hadn't been anywhere near the Noghri. More digging revealed that none of them had even left the ship in the last two weeks. Hanji's slicer was still hard at work on the hanger bay's logs, and the shuttle was still being examined to figure out how the Noghri had stayed hidden from their sensors long enough to board the ship and leave the shuttle they had come in on. They couldn't even figure out who the crew of the shuttle were, and Erwin was beginning to suspect they would find the bodies stuffed someone unconventional and unpleasant whenever they began to stink.

Giving only unproven theories to the Grand Admiral was not something Erwin was ever happy to do, but Thrawn had summoned him to his private command room for an update, and good guesses were all Erwin had to report. Presently, he stood at ease in front of the double display ring that circled the Grand Admiral's chair. He had related Hanji's hypothesis to his superior and given a verbal summary of his report, and now had nothing to do but wait as the Grand Admiral skimmed over the written version of Erwin's full report.

"And we have no other leads?" Thrawn asked softly – dangerously so, in Erwin's opinion. He knew that it was his neck on the line right now, but refused to show or give in to his fear that he was about to be executed. Like all of the other senior officers, Erwin sometimes had to remind himself firmly that Thrawn was not Lord Vader.

"No, sir, not as of yet," Erwin replied.

Thrawn's eyes glittered coldly, and his tone, though mild and polite, suddenly had an undercurrent of threat to it that Erwin didn't miss and which definitely made him rather nervous. "And what is being done to remedy that?"

Whatever the Grand Admiral wanted, at this point, was whatever Erwin would have his subordinates do. Erwin was starting to run out of ideas. Nothing added up here. He didn't voice that to Thrawn, though. "Major Zakarius is still trying to retrace their steps via scent, but the trail is beginning to go cold. The slicer is still working on the hangar bay computers – whatever encrypt they used to cover their tracks, he and Decrypt have never seen anything like it before. It's no known Rebellion, Old Republic, or Imperial code. They even checked it against our records of the Separatists and known droid encrypts. It's going to take time, unfortunately."

Thrawn's eyes narrowed at that, and Erwin thought it best to push on quickly. Both of them were well aware that time was a precious commodity they didn't have right now and neither of them needed a reminder. "Lieutenant Ackerman and his destabilization squad are questioning the full list of those that would have had access to anything the Noghri would have needed, as well as following up on their alibis. They've done half the list – no luck so far. I've issued a request for all officers to report any subordinates who were late or absent from duty in the three days prior to the attack as well as the day of, and I'm still waiting for everyone to report in."

It definitely wasn't the best of news, and they both knew it, but if he was lucky Thrawn would decide that the commander was handling this well enough and let him live to continue doing his job. Erwin was just grateful Thrawn was nothing like Lord Vader: if he was, Erwin would be dead by now. Though the Grand Admiral was clearly still angry, it was no longer directed at him; mostly, Thrawn just looked tired. It had been nearly 72 hours since the incident began at the start of ship's night, which meant the Grand Admiral probably hadn't slept much at all in at least three days. Erwin knew the feeling – the only sleep he had managed was an hour here and there on his office couch while waiting for reports to come in or finish being processed.

Though visible, the exhaustion certainly wasn't audible in his voice as Thrawn nodded thoughtfully and switched to a slightly related topic. "Have we been able to confirm that Organa Solo's visit is, in fact, merely a coincidence?"

If there was one thing Erwin could report with certainty, it was that. "Yes, sir," he said confidently. "All of our sources confirm that she is officially here to offer membership to the Noghri. Though several Noghri have been spotted with her as guards, there is nothing to indicate this was planned. According to our palace spies, this trip was to also include a drop off of some supplies on her way to a conference in the Outer Rim, but she arrived here earlier than anticipated."

"The Noghri were expecting we would be finished before she arrived," Thrawn murmured.

He didn't seem to want or be expecting a response, so Erwin didn't offer him one; instead, he silently waited on his superior officer to continue or dismiss him. After a rather short wait, Thrawn stirred again, and gave Erwin an evaluating look. "In your opinion, and according to the information we have on hand, do you think it would be more politically advantageous in the long run with the world's we've had difficulties with these last few weeks to burn Honoghr to ashes after retrieving the captain, or to negotiate with them and win the captain back that way?"

It was an interesting (if loaded) question, and Erwin would be the only other person on board at the moment who would have those answers. Being asked for information that nearly sounded like a request for advice was strange. After having served under Lord Vader and his sycophantic senior officers for so long, it felt weird to know his advice might be heeded without him being strangled for it if it went wrong. None of those men had ever been strong enough to admit when they had made mistakes or didn't know something, let alone request advice or help.

Thrawn, though, was different. He was able to keep is personal pride in check – even in defeat – and the example he set encouraged other officers to follow suit. It had taken his new crew a good long while to get used to his particular way of doing things, and some of the senior officers were still basically living in fear that Thrawn was going to turn around and strangle them. Captain Pellaeon, in particular, had argued frequently with the Grand Admiral at first. All that was in the past now, he reminded himself. If Thrawn needed another opinion to ensure he didn't make a mistake that he would regret later, Erwin would be happy to help.

Erwin thought over the latest Intelligence reports, considered Thrawn's stated goals, and came to a quick decision. "Given that you have successfully brought many non-Human worlds into the Empire, I believe it would be more politically and sociologically beneficial to negotiate with them if the need arises. If other worlds see that you're willing to even work with those who have slighted you – hypothetically – they will begin to have more respect." Erwin's lips pressed together slightly. That was what he wanted to see happen, but...

Perhaps sensing that he had more to say, the blue-skinned alien merely waited with polite silence while Erwin quickly rehearsed his next argument in his own mind before speaking. "On the other hand, Admiral, I feel duty-bound to restate that negotiating with the Noghri will likely make it more challenging to convince the remaining Moffs and Warlords to quietly fall in line behind your cause." Erwin took a deep breath, let it out, and continued. "According to our intel, the average Imperial citizen's respect for you will likely increase, but the aristocrats our late Emperor put in place will very strongly oppose you."

The near non-reaction he received to the statement gave Erwin the impression that the Grand Admiral likely already knew as much, but had simply wanted confirmation. Thrawn nodded slightly, and leaned back thoughtfully in his chair. "Thank you, Commander," he replied after a moment. "You're dismissed."

"Sir." Erwin gave a curt half-bow with his head, and left.

Levi was waiting for Erwin when he stepped out into the corridor. His posture was military-perfect, except that his hands were fidgeting a little at his sides. Erwin noted the miniscule movement, noted the barely discernible tightness in Levi's usually unchanging expression, and came to the correct conclusion that something bad had happened – though it wasn't dire enough to interrupt his private meeting with the Grand Admiral over it. "Have you found something?" he murmured as Levi fell into step one pace to his left and one pace behind.

"No, it's worse than that," Levi answered. His usually monotonous tone had a bit of an edge to it; worry – or was it fear? – clouded his tone. "It's Ensign Jaeger, sir. He's..." The lieutenant trailed off and shook his head as he glanced at all the passersby and gave Erwin a meaningful look.

So it was pretty bad. Erwin raised one well-groomed eyebrow, and led Levi to his office before prompting him again. "What happened?" he asked again, and his subordinate and friend sighed.

Levi sat on the edge of Erwin's spotless desk, and Erwin lowered himself into his chair. "I told you, he's been acting weird as hell ever since his last shore leave. That brat's been grumpy as fuck, and all he'll say is that he's mad at his father and doesn't know why. Kid's twenty-three, Erwin. Shouldn't he be out of that phase?"

How could Erwin forget? It had been the sole reason he had initially been reluctant to assign Eren to the recon mission to Mount Tantiss. "Probably. What did he do?"

"He flung Kirstein into the goddamn bulkhead wall."

He what? Erwin raised an eyebrow. That was hardly cause for this much concern from Levi. Jaeger and Kirstein had been at each others' throats since their first day at the Imperial Academy. "So?" he asked, and leaned backward a little. "They fight all the time. Just discipline them."

Levi leaned forward, close enough that their foreheads were practically touching, and whispered three words that sent a shiver down Erwin's back and put a tightness in his stomach that made him feel sick. "With his mind." Levi pulled away to look Erwin straight in his horrified, wide blue eyes. "He threw him without touching him – used his hand to make the gesture like the Jedi Knights used to do. Eren just straight out flung him sideways. Kirstein's okay, but a little spooked."

The shock of it made Erwin lean back in his seat, numb and terrified. "Are you certain? Who all saw it? How many holorecorders, Levi?"

"Unfortunately, it happened in the mess hall. A lot of crew saw it – maybe more than can be silenced, but Mike and Hanji are giving it their best. I don't think you'll be able to keep this from the Grand Admiral. Everyone's still in shock, but that won't last for long, even with the brat confined to his quarters by Mikasa and Armin, and Jean in sick bay having his head checked."

Levi's voice was incredibly tense. Thrawn had so recently had them all chasing after Skywalker, his sister, and his niece and nephew, that Erwin could easily figure out that Levi was worried about Eren. The boy was practically like a son to him. If Thrawn somehow decided that once again, having a pet Jedi was utterly essential to their quest for survival in destroying the Rebel Alliance...

On the other hand, if he didn't tell Thrawn and he found out from another source, there would be hell to pay – likely with his life. There was a possibility that this had something to do with the rumors of experiments on Maria to create Jedi – rumors he had only discussed with the Grand Admiral and had been ordered to keep completely confidential. Thrawn was more aware of the earlier experiments than he was, as he had a much higher security clearance than Erwin, but Erwin knew enough to be suspicious. Aware though he was that Thrawn hardly needed anything else on his plate right now, Erwin had a duty.

With a resigned sigh, he made his decision. "Fetch Jaeger and Kirstein, and bring them up the Grand Admiral's private command room." There was nowhere safer on the _Chimaera_ to discuss this with Thrawn, and he sure as hell wasn't arrogant enough to insist Thrawn come to him. Erwin stood and headed for the door as Levi hopped off the desk. He caught up to Erwin in two quick steps to grab his elbow and spin him around.

"What if he hurts Eren or something?" Levi demanded. "We don't know what his new goals are for this campaign he's planning."

Erwin understood his fears, but there was nothing he could do about them. He looked down at Levi and raised one perfect eyebrow. "You mean worse than he will to all four of us if he learns about this from another source? If someone besides Intelligence beats us to telling him our business? If he learns about it and suspects we're trying to hide it from him? Worse than that? Worse than dead and beyond all hope?" Thrawn was a good leader, but Thrawn could also be terrifying. He'd executed more than one officer for making too many stupid mistakes.

It was a good point, and Levi knew it, but it didn't prevent the shorter agent from trying and failing to stare Erwin down for another minute. Finally conceding defeat, Levi looked away and stepped out the door. Erwin followed after him, and went straight back up to report on this incredibly unexpected development.

– – – – –

Thrawn was just exiting his private command room when Erwin arrived. "Admiral," he called as he picked up his pace. "Sir, I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm afraid this can't wait."

Ahead, the Grand Admiral turned and waited. Those red eyes cast over Erwin's face as he brought himself to attention in front of Thrawn. His urgency must have shown clearly in his expression and posture, because Thrawn only needed the one look before wordlessly turning and gesturing for Erwin to follow him back inside the command room. Erwin was tense and worried for Eren's safety now, thanks to Levi giving voice to his fears a few minutes prior. The Grand Admiral quirked an eyebrow, and Erwin withdrew his data pad from its place on his belt, passed it over, and brought himself back to attention.

On the data pad, already pulled up and waiting, was the security holo footage of the incident. Erwin had called it up on the turbolift ride, watched it, and spent the entire walk from the turbolift swearing internally. He was curious to see how Thrawn would react, if it would have the same surprise and emotional effect on an alien (near-Human though he was) as it did on himself. There was utter silence as the Grand Admiral watched the recording, rewound it, and watched it again. It would be impossible to mistake what had happened or pass it off as something else, and Erwin knew that the slightly shorter man was well aware of that as he silently returned Erwin's data pad, with the Bureau of Operations Commander swiftly tucked away.

Thrawn's face was nearly unreadable, save for the way his lips compressed slightly. "I don't suppose he's from Maria?" Thrawn asked softly.

"Both of them are," Erwin confirmed. "Ensigns Jaeger and Kirstein. We've had disciplinary issues with them before; recently, Eren's problems coincide with what we know of the Titan Project, and then he did this."

"Where are the Ensigns involved?"

There was no need for him to answer. The doors slid open as Levi led Eren and Jean into the dimly lit room that would likely have the effect of making Thrawn's glowing red eyes appear more menacing to the young men. Erwin was right about that – though they gave sharp salutes and snapped to attention, Jean looked nervous and Eren... Eren looked terrified. His face was pale, green eyes red from crying, and he looked about as composed as a man about to be executed for treason. Still, Erwin had to give him credit as Eren managed to hold himself together anyway.

"At ease," Thrawn ordered. There seemed to be something approving in his eyes as all four junior officers smartly adjusted their stances. Erwin had expected him to start by asking one of the young men for their side of the story, but as usual, Thrawn had to prove his unpredictability by doing the unexpected. He turned his attention to Levi, doubtless having noticed the much shorter man in the recording.

"Lieutenant Ackerman, how many people witnessed the incident?" he asked, his perfectly modulated voice taking on a bit of curtness with the question.

It was curtness Levi didn't miss. He looked back into (or rather, up at) that impassive face and those intimidating eyes with no fear or his usual indifference. It was a sure sign to Erwin that Levi was upset and trying to contain himself. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Grand Admiral's eyes flick to rest on Erwin's face, and he hoped the shadow from his hat was enough to conceal the concern that briefly flickered over his features.

"Two hundred twenty-seven, Admiral," he answered sharply.

"What containment measures did you take, Lieutenant?" he asked after forcing back a grimace about the number. Two hundred twenty-seven wasn't even one percent of the crew, but as someone who had spent his entire career in Intelligence, Erwin knew that was more than enough people to spread rumors through the entire ship in less than a day.

Levi's hands twitched just slightly at his back, if the shifting of his elbow was anything to go by. "Major Zakarius took control of that, sir, and his squad is handling damage control at the moment to ensure nobody breathes a word of this without your explicit permission."

Thrawn considered that, seemed to approve of it, and turned his full attention to Eren. "You are Ensign Jaeger, correct?"

"Yes, sir," Eren replied. There was pride in Levi's eyes when Eren's voice didn't tremble despite facing what he clearly thought was certain death.

"Tell me what happened, Ensign, as best as you can." Thrawn's voice had a suddenly soothing quality to it now, perhaps in response to the increase in fear in the young man's eyes. It was the same tone Erwin had heard him use on Captain Pellaeon more than once, and also on C'baoth. Usually, it worked to calm whoever was on the receiving end of it, and it worked enough to get Eren to speak.

Eren swallowed nervously, but complied with the order. "Ensign Kirstein and I were assisting with the search for the traitors. Lieutenant Ackerman assigned us to confirm that no other Noghri are on the _Chimaera_. He made a lewd comment regarding my sister, Ensign Ackerman, and I got angry, sir."

Thrawn nodded when he paused. "Understandable. Continue, Ensign."

After a quick, deep breath, Eren pressed on. "I wanted to hit him more than I usually do, but I was trying to rein myself in. I moved my hand, but I didn't touch him. The next thing I knew he was a good five meters away from me, pressed up against the bulkhead."

Those menacing eyes clashed enough with Thrawn's pacifying tone of voice that it clearly made Jean even more nervous when those red eyes were trained on him. The blonde wet his lips nervously, a subconscious reaction that completely betrayed his emotions and nearly drew a frown from Erwin. He couldn't have agents in the field being so outwardly honest with their emotions at the first sign of trouble. "Is this an accurate report of the events, Agent Kirstein?"

"Yes, Admiral," Jean replied. He might have been nervous, but his voice was just as steady as and as military-crisp Eren's was.

"Is there anything you wish to add to Ensign Jaeger's account?"

Jean glanced to the floor before he caught himself and looked back up to meet Thrawn's gaze. "Yes, sir, there is." Jean's eyes darted sideways to Eren for a moment, then back. "I've had a few minutes to consider what happened, and I don't think Ere– Ensign Jaeger was aware of his actions as they occurred, and I don't think he knew he could even do that, judging by his shock as he realized what had happened."

Thrawn's eyes shifted back to Eren's, suddenly wide with shock that Jean was standing up for him to the Grand Admiral. "Were you unaware of these abilities up until this point?"

Eren nodded crisply. "Yes, sir. I've never done anything like that in my life – even playing "Jedi" as a kid – until today, no matter how mad I've been."

There was some confusion in Thrawn's eyes, possibly sorting out the "playing Jedi" phrase, and then it cleared. Sometimes it was very easy to remember that Thrawn was not human, though he looked close enough to it, as certain idioms and euphemisms that most humans knew were still occasionally confusing to him. The confusion cleared, and Thrawn tilted his head to the left just slightly and narrowed his eyes. "Have you suffered any emotional trauma recently?"

Even with what he knew of the project, that was a very strange question. Erwin and Levi exchanged a fast, confused glance, and Eren and Jean looked equally stumped. "The only thing that comes to mind is an argument I had with my father during my leave last month, but I wouldn't call it "traumatic", Admiral. Just... slightly jarring."

"An interesting choice of words, Ensign. Forgive me for prying into family affairs, but why do you describe it as such?"

Eren hesitated, and seemed to be trying to recall something that wouldn't come. "I'm sorry, Admiral, but I don't remember much. Every time I try to recall what happened, I draw a blank."

The Grand Admiral was clearly intrigued. He also clearly believed Eren. "Thank you, Ensigns, that will be all for now. Return to your quarters and keep this matter and this conversation strictly confidential. Dismissed."

Levi and Erwin had not been dismissed, so they waited as the two young men snapped to attention, gave a sharp salute, and promptly turned and exited the room. Thrawn waited until the double doors had slid shut behind them before turning the commander and lieutenant and fixing them with a sharp and deadly serious stare. "This must be kept absolutely secret for now," Thrawn instructed them coolly. "As interesting as digging deeper into Jaeger's mysterious and sudden Force-sensitivity will be, it will have to keep for now. I need everyone's attention focused on tracking down the traitors and recovering our captive captain. For now, just keep Jaeger away from others, under continuous guard by people you trust, and one of the remaining ysalamir with him in his quarters. Do I make myself clear?"

They snapped to attention and acknowledged, and the Grand Admiral dismissed them with a tired wave. Pushing Thrawn's obvious exhaustion out of his mind along with his own, Erwin led the way back down to his office and hoped Thrawn would decide to dig up or clone another Jedi Master into working with them in exchange for Eren to do with as he or she pleased.


	6. Chapter 6

Alone in his cell with all technology taken from him, the only way Pellaeon had to track the time was by the meals he was infrequently served. Thrawn had spent a long time familiarizing him with the Noghri ways and he knew that they typically did not feed their prisoners. At his best estimate, he was being given one meal a day. At worst... well, he didn't really want to start wondering how long he had been trapped under the Nystao spaceport with only himself for company. This sort of treatment was the one thing Lord Vader hadn't needed to teach the Noghri, or so Thrawn had informed him. They used very similar softening up techniques prior to interrogation that Intelligence did. The Noghri were trying to wear him down for questioning, most likely. In the absence of a good diet to keep his mind sharp, Pellaeon had been forcing himself to sleep as much as possible so he could keep his mind better focused when he was awake. Still, after at least a few days of boredom and isolation spent wondering if he'd ever see his ship again, he couldn't help but feel like imprisonment was starting to take its toll on him.

Pellaeon badly wanted to know what was happening, but Organa Solo hadn't returned after the first visit and the guards that came to feed him and allow him to relieve himself – and once, a change of clothes – wouldn't utter a word to him and got rather annoyed if he tried to talk. If he had to stay stuck in this monotonous cell any longer, Pellaeon was sure he would lose his damn mind. Surely they had to be attempting a negotiation. It wouldn't take Thrawn this long to get him out of there otherwise.

Of course, there was also the possibility, however small, that the Imperial blockade had been run, routed, or destroyed. In either case, Pellaeon reminded himself that he needed to have faith in the Grand Admiral. With any luck, he would be freed before the Rebels decided to interrogate him. The question he truly dreaded the answer to was if it would be at the hands of the Rebel interrogators, or if the Skywalker children were content to permit the Noghri the chance to interrogate him. He'd rather take his chances with the Rebels, knowing their policies and methods were much easier on prisoners.

By what he estimated was the fifth day of his captivity there had still no news about what in the Emperor's name was going on. Surely the entire Fleet must have been wiped out by now if he was still stuck on this backwater planet as a hostage. There was no way Thrawn would make him wait in a cell this long, or so he had thought. Perhaps Thrawn was angry, or had something else to attend to first.

On the sixth day the door slid open for the second time in a very short period. Expecting to be quickly fed and left alone again, Pellaeon almost didn't bother moving. The footfalls approaching his door were unfamiliar and quite a bit louder than usual. Figuring that it was probably just a different Noghri than usual, Pellaeon didn't bother with rolling over to look at whoever had entered. The footsteps didn't stop until they were right behind him, which was a bit odd for the former slaves of the Empire. Whoever it was seemed to know that he was awake and was patiently waiting for the captain to roll over. A Noghri wouldn't have behaved that way – he'd have just been ordered to his feet. A human then, but who? Suppressing his fear that the worst either had happened or was about to happen, Pellaeon rolled over and eased himself into a sitting position–

–And found himself face-to-face with Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. Had he come in with his sister, or had something happened?

"Greetings," said Skywalker politely. "I imagine you're getting pretty tired of being locked up in here. Would you care to join me for a walk?"

That seemed like an odd invitation to give to a prisoner, especially when he ought to have been sneaking Pellaeon out of here and back to Coruscant for interrogation and a trial as a war criminal. Given his recent experiences with Jedi, Pellaeon didn't exactly want to go on a walk with one, especially since Grand Admiral Thrawn had been trying so hard to capture or kill this particular Jedi. Until he had more information, he wasn't moving of his own will. "A walk to where?" he asked, on his guard. Getting out of here would be nice, but not if he was going to be trading it for an even worse experience.

Perhaps Skywalker was using the Force to read his mind or his mood, because he gave Pellaeon a small grin that was only a little reassuring. Great. Now he was being amusing. "Just some fresh air while we discuss the preliminary negotiation for your freedom."

"The Grand Admiral decided to negotiate?" Pellaeon asked, disbelief coloring his tone. What in Vader's name was Thrawn thinking? Negotiating like this would make them look weak to the Imperial politicians and military officers Thrawn would need to court to unify the Fleet once more.

"Yes," Skywalker confirmed. "Is that unusual for him?"

Deciding that a walk did sound nice after all, Pellaeon stood when Skywalker gestured for him to exit the cell and the captain warily stepped into the corridor. It was Skywalker's way of asking politely what Thrawn was like, he was sure. Ignoring the Noghri following them at a distance, he walked with Skywalker at a leisurely pace.

Should he even answer that? If he could lead them into thinking Thrawn was trustworthy it could help negotiations go in their favor and lower whatever exorbitant sum the Noghri were demanding. "No, given the circumstances. He's nothing like Lord Vader. Thrawn will execute someone if he needs to, but neither of us like seeing lives wasted or our people senselessly killed. I've seen him get mad over troops being needlessly wasted. I'm sure it's hard for you to believe, but he's genuinely a good leader and treats his people rather well."

"Yet you weren't expecting him to negotiate," Skywalker pointed out as they stepped into the sunshine outside the spaceport.

Pellaeon was silent for a long moment, simply basking in the warmth of the sun on his face and the feeling of fresh air on his skin. They couldn't afford this financially or politically. "I was hoping he wouldn't," he finally answered, just to clarify. "Politics in the Empire aren't as complicated as those of the Republic's, but there are still other things that must be taken into account besides the value of the hostage."

They walked along a little, each man silent for awhile, the Noghri guards trailing behind them as though they expected Pellaeon do something incredibly tactically foolish. "How long have I been off the _Chimaera_?" he asked eventually, breaking the silence.

"Nearly nine days," Skywalker responded. "Two days to get you here, and seven days of the Noghri arguing with Grand Admiral Thrawn, though I did get the feeling your people had a separate issue to deal with."

Pellaeon wouldn't know anything about that, but it was nice to know there might be a decent reason for the delay in getting him the hell out of here. There hadn't been any such issues brought to his attention while he had been aboard, and he couldn't imagine what he could be aside from figuring out how the Noghri got onto the _Chimaera_. Commander Smith was incredibly competent, and Pellaeon highly doubted it had taken that long for him to put the pieces together for Grand Admiral Thrawn. He glanced up at the sky, at the vague and distant shape of the ships in the blockade that were in a lower orbit. It was a relief to know the Fleet was still there, still undamaged, and to get to see that with his own eyes.

"When are the negotiations to take place?" Pellaeon asked after another moment spent looking longingly up at the sky above him that held his family and his friends. Most of the people he cared about were up there, in orbit, and therefore in potential danger from the Rebels, if Organa Solo or Skywalker managed to get word out to them – or if they came looking for them due to a delay in communications.

"That hasn't been entirely decided yet." Skywalker turned his head to look at Pellaeon with eyes that looked so old in such a young face. A gust of wind blew, shifting his sandy hair messily on his head, and Pellaeon felt like he was looking at a ghost of a General who had been dead for five years now. Lord Vader's former life as a Jedi wasn't widely known, but it was one of the tidbits of information Thrawn had shared with him at some point.

Perhaps he had sensed something had come over the captain, or had just gotten a good at his face, but Skywalker stopped and turned to look at him more fully. "What is it?" he asked, concern written all over his features.

"You look quite a bit like your father did at your age. It's uncanny."

That had an interesting effect on Skywalker. Pellaeon was sure he had the younger man's full attention as he began walking again. Skywalker and his sister had grown up without knowing their father. It was only natural they would be curious. The Jedi didn't move for a full thirty seconds, and then he caught up to the captain.

"You knew my father?" he asked, as though he hadn't expected that.

The corner of Pellaeon's lip twitched up in amusement before he could smother it. "You mean before he became Lord Vader? Yes. I've known him most of my career. I even served under him on a mission or two during the Clone Wars." Pellaeon glanced over at Skywalker. "Perhaps one day I'll tell you about that, but not now. Not on Honoghr. They'll take it as blasphemy and tear me apart for it."

The Jedi seemed to accept that. "Fair enough," he capitulated. "There were a few questions I wanted to ask you prior to the negotiation, if you're willing to answer."

"Such as?" That would depend on what Skywalker wanted to know.

"You mentioned that he's nothing like my father was."

Ah. "He's not needlessly cruel or ruthless and prefers to inspire others wherever possible instead of threatening them... with some exceptions." The stormtroopers were certainly performing better since their pay and liberty had been threatened, and the tractor beam operators were still doing excellently.

Skywalker seemed to consider that for a moment. "But he still uses fear as a tactic," the Jedi pointed out, "and he tried to kidnap me, my sister, Jacen, and Jaina. It's not going to be taken well back home if we mediate a negotiation with someone who believes in using force or threat of force to get his way."

Like the Rebellion or Old Republic were ever completely innocent. Pellaeon resisted the urge to say something extremely unkind about some of the Jedi he had served under and the ridiculous squabbling in the Senate that had to led to war in the first place and settled for something more polite. "A wise tactician uses whatever means necessary to advance his cause," Pellaeon argued quietly, "and he only uses it when nothing else is going to be sufficiently effective. It's no different than some of the tactics authorized by the Jedi Council and their Generals during the Clone Wars."

A glance over at Skywalker showed the young man didn't believe him – and why would he? Skywalker had only heard the Rebellion's side of the conflict, which glorified chaos. This young man certainly hadn't been alive to experience the civil war that led to the Emperor's rise to power.

"Do you know why Thrawn joined the Empire?" Skywalker asked, opting for a change of topic.

He knew what the Jedi really meant, of course. Many of his fellow officers and subordinates had asked the same question since Thrawn had come to them from the Unknown Regions. "Because he's an alien?" Pellaeon asked dryly. "You'd have to ask him, though I doubt you would get an answer. That's a story I believe he's confided to very few – perhaps even only to the Emperor."

Skywalker nodded, considered it, and asked a different question. "He's requested we conduct the negotiations on either the _Chimaera_ or a neutral world. If we went to the _Chimaera_ for this, would he honor his promise to let us leave afterward?"

It was hardly surprising that Thrawn would request some venue that would give him the upper hand, and it wasn't surprising at all that Skywalker was concerned. His sister was a new mother, after all, and if it were any of his siblings and his own nieces and nephews, Pellaeon would want assurances as their safety first as well. Fortunately, he could provide that. "So long as you don't try to double-cross him, damage the ship, or go digging through anyone's minds, he'll likely keep his word."

Unless something changed due to the thing Skywalker had mentioned. "I take it I'm remaining here for the duration of the meetings?"

"There's no other way the Noghri will negotiate," the Jedi Master pointed out.

"Then you should have no trouble coming and going from the ship at your leisure," Pellaeon assured him.

Though not thrilled with another few days in the cell Skywalker was now returning him to, he was happy to know things were moving along. At least he wasn't being subjected to a full-scale interrogation, just the softening-up phase of little food, water, and company. When they returned to the cell, Skywalker bid him goodnight, and left Pellaeon to his speculations and concerns about what sort of chaos he could possibly be missing on his ship.

– – –

When morning came Pellaeon was woken by his guards, fed, and ordered to shower, shave, and put on his now-clean uniform. Grateful to have something familiar to wear again, Pellaeon was more than happy to oblige. He'd expected to be returned to his cell once he was clean; instead, he was restrained and led up to the communications center portion of the spaceport. Skywalker was waiting for them outside the door, one of the infants cooing happily in his arms. He led the way into the room, where his sister and Dynast Ir'khaim were in conversation around the hologram pod with Grand Admiral Thrawn. Pellaeon couldn't help but notice that the other baby was asleep in the arms of a Noghri as he was led close enough to listen but not to be seen.

"This arrangement is entirely dependent upon whether or not you've kept my second-in-command in decent condition," Thrawn was saying coldly to Ir'khaim. "If you've harmed him in any way, given him up to the Rebels, or conveniently 'misplaced' him, there will be no more conversation, only suffering. I've been asking you to let me speak with him for three days now. This is no longer a request. You will let me speak with him and confirm his condition for myself."

It sounded to Pellaeon as though Thrawn was losing his patience with the Noghri. The aliens had known him since Lord Vader had given them to him, and the Dynasts in particular should definitely have known better than to test the limits of his patience. Some of them had seen it pushed to the limit once or twice and the consequences of doing something so utterly stupid.

Organa Solo had either felt or heard them enter, and she glanced off to the side. The movement caught Ir'khaim's attention, and he turned as well. "Very well," the councilor said, and gestured for the guards to bring Pellaeon over as her and Ir'khaim stepped away.

It probably wasn't obvious to anybody else in the room, but to Pellaeon the Grand Admiral looked exhausted. The pallor of his skin (not obvious to anybody who didn't spend hours by his side and under his tutelage) reminded Pellaeon rather unpleasantly of the time Thrawn had spent recovering in sick bay from Rukh's treacherous attack. Under those circumstances, Thrawn had barely been able to keep his eyes open longer than half an hour at a time thanks to the chemical concoction given to him by the medics to help with the pain that lingered even after emergency surgery and three days in a bacta tank. His eyes looked pinched around the edges, and his posture was just slightly wrong. Pellaeon gave him a disapproving from as he took in the sight of his commander. He hoped Thrawn was at least attending meals regularly and actually eating them.

The Grand Admiral pointed ignored the criticizing gaze. "Captain," Thrawn greeted, relief just barely audible in his tone. "How are you feeling?"

_Better than you look_, he thought but didn't say aloud. The Rebels and Noghri didn't need to know that they'd gotten to him through the captain. Pellaeon gave him an less-than-obvious once-over and quirked an eyebrow to get his point across. "I'm more or less all right," he replied, and then narrowed his eyes just slightly to let Thrawn know that he knew the Grand Admiral wasn't doing as well.

That time Thrawn didn't ignore the look. He arched an eyebrow in disbelief, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly in amusement and fondness at being silently reprimanded by his second-in-command for his exhaustion. If nothing else, it seemed to reassure him that Pellaeon was coping with captivity well enough to get by. "More or less?" he inquired. "Have they treated you poorly?"

"I'm a prisoner of the Noghri," Pellaeon reminded him quietly. "They've not been needlessly cruel, but I'm very much looking forward to coming home, Admiral..." He hesitated, and Thrawn saw it and narrowed his eyes.

"But?" he prompted.

Pellaeon forced himself to maintain eye contact and just say it. "Not at the expense of draining our resources."

There was definitely surprise on Grand Admiral Thrawn's face, surprise which Pellaeon heard echoed in the room behind him. Clearly the last thing any of them expected was for Pellaeon to give Thrawn permission to just leave him there. At least it wasn't new information that the Empire was still pretty broke. With the Grand Admiral (and everyone else, really) at least slightly off-balance, now was the time to press his point.

"I'm not worth the cost of reparations and we both know it," he argued softly. "I'm _one person_. The money you'd spend on the Noghri to barter my freedom would be better spent saving more lives than just one." It wasn't that he wanted to stay, but it was his duty as an Imperial officer to act in the best interests of the Empire. Even with all of Thrawn's expansion, their resourced were considerably limited, and no matter how badly he wanted to go home to his ship, that wouldn't change.

Thrawn's lips compressed into a thin line as he gave Pellaeon a thoroughly disapproving look. "I disagree, Captain. Bringing you back – especially through negotiations – will be beneficial in the long-run. You are to continue cooperating with the Noghri until we come to an agreement concerning your release. Do I make myself clear"? His voice was cold and angry, yes, but it wasn't something Pellaeon was afraid of, as much as the alarmed murmuring of the others in the room told him they thought he should be concerned, at the very least.

It sound like Thrawn had a plan in mind, and negotiating was part of it. Pellaeon couldn't wait to hear him justify that when he was returned to the _Chimaera_. He wanted to protest, but if he hesitated to argue with the man in front of junior officers, there was no way he was going to do it in front of enemies. His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stand up straight. "Yes, Admiral," he acknowledged, letting his tone speak his thoughts for him by conveying the silent 'You'd better have something really good in mind for this' he was thinking. Pellaeon was willing to trust Thrawn as always, but he was nervous that this time, he might be completely wrong.

Organa Solo stepped close. "The Noghri say that's long enough," she interjected calmly.

Pellaeon glanced at her and nodded his understanding, and then locked eyes with Thrawn. "We'll speak again soon enough, Captain," the Grand Admiral soothed. "You must trust me."

"You know I do," Pellaeon replied quietly. Why did he have a horrible feeling that this would be the last time they spoke for awhile? "Get some rest, we'll talk later."

Thrawn nodded, and his guards stepped forward to lead him away. Pellaeon could feel Thrawn's eyes on his back, looking at where he'd last stood, the whole way out of the room and down to his cell.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing that had surprised Levi was that the Noghri and the Jedi had agreed to hold the negotiations on the _Chimaera_. He didn't much like the thought of Thrawn inviting their enemies aboard, but he supposed it was better than their leader heading down to a hostile planet. It would also be easier to collect information with their enemies on the ship than having to dodge Noghri on the planet to watch them.

The second thing that had surprised him had also annoyed him: Grand Admiral Thrawn had requested that he and Erwin sit in on the negotiations with him and Harbid instead of Commanders Quenton and Ardiff. It made sense, Levi supposed – they were the best of Imperial Intelligence. Ardiff was also an emotional young man, quick to take offense and offer it in return. When it came to calm, logical reasoning, the man could sometimes be just as bad as Eren, though he was several years older and far more experienced.

Which brought Levi to the final thing that had surprised him: Thrawn was inviting the only remaining Jedi Master to the ship. What if he was planning to give up Eren to him in exchange for concessions made on the part of the New Republic? Levi could handle his most determined subordinate learning to use the Force if it meant he'd learn to control his abilities. What he wasn't fine with was Eren learning the idiotic tenants of the old Jedi Order. Though he hadn't fought in the Clone Wars, plenty of the senior officers had and served directly under Jedi Generals. Captain Pellaeon and Captain Harbid were both very fond of telling stories of the war to impressionable and easily terrified rookies. Levi had heard all the stories firsthand, and he knew how to arrogant and dangerous the Jedi had become.

That was the last thing he wanted for a wide-eyed, eager to please kid like Eren. The traditional Jedi values were completely idiotic and impractical; besides, there was no way such an honest, caring kid could give up his attachments to his friends and family and that was something Levi didn't want to see. Levi made sure to quietly assign Eren to a string of complicated tasks on the opposite side of the ship from their conference where he would be directly under Mike and Hanji's supervision.

If Eren wasn't around, and Skywalker wasn't keeping an eye out for Force-sensitive soldiers, Levi figured Eren was probably safe.

The four Imperials attending the meeting met the shuttle from Honoghr's surface in the aft hangar bay. Erwin and Harbid stood on either side of Thrawn at precisely the distance away from and behind that was required by military etiquette. Levi stood behind and between them. The three junior officers stood at attention, but Levi thought they looked sloppy in comparison to Thrawn. He stood up perfectly straight, posture exactly perfect, and his hands clasped behind his back in a way that looked militarily acceptable, but also made him look like a perfectly trustworthy gentleman. It was something that struck Levi as weird to see on a man he knew was utterly ruthless in pursuit of his goals and had no qualms about executing men for irredeemable incompetence.

There was no way just the deceiving appearance was going to put the traitors and the Jedi at ease. Levi privately hoped Thrawn, Harbid, and Erwin had enough diplomacy between them to fix this mess, and fast, before the Rebels sent a fleet after Organa Solo because she'd been out of contact too long.

The three Noghri Dynasts that had been sent to negotiate on behalf of Honoghr preceded Organa Solo and Skywalker down the shuttle ramp. The greeting between Thrawn and the Noghri was rather strained, but Organa Solo offered him the back of her hand like they probably did back in the days of the early Imperial Court. It was a show of fearlessness, but it seemed to put the tiny, traitorous little aliens more at ease when Thrawn accepted it and bowed politely over it in a way that was weirdly attractive before politely shaking Skywalker's hand. He introduced himself to them, and then turned to the rest of his party.

"At ease," he ordered. The three men complied, snapping in unison to the less formal stance. "If you'll allow me to present the rest of my party," Thrawn was saying as Levi kept his attention on the Dynasts as instructed. Behind them, Intelligence agents were quietly slipping into the shuttle to make sure there were no more of the little bastards in hiding. "These are the gentlemen that will be joining us for the negotiations: Captain Harbid, of the _Death's Head_, and Commander Smith and Lieutenant Ackerman."

Polite nods and handshakes consisting of who-knew-what germs were exchanged between the men and the councilor. Levi was thankful his superiors had the good sense to prepare him in advance for what to expect and what was expected of him because he probably would have blanched away from the touch. The councilor presented the aliens, who Thrawn already knew, to the other men. Unhappy about having his hand sniffed, Levi tried not to show it. Stupid ass greetings concluded, Thrawn offered Councilor Organa Solo his arm, and escorted her to the ready room that had been prepared for the meeting.

The talks were dreadfully boring, aside from the occasional emotional and accusatory outbursts from the three Dynasts. Thrawn proved to be incredibly skilled at deflecting and dissipating the anger directed at him and turning it around into talking points and very subtle accusations or excuses. It looked to Levi like he was testing them, searching for an exploitable weakness. What Thrawn couldn't handle, Harbid and Erwin were able to quietly present counter-arguments, but Levi was pretty sure Organa Solo was onto their game. The Rebels were holding their own pretty well.

"Holding their own" didn't mean they weren't exempt from relenting a little to the charm of a proper gentlemen. Thrawn and Erwin's combined charm seemed to be wearing them down after an hour or two. Just as Levi had a feeling they were about to make a breakthrough of some kind, something hit the _Chimaera_ with enough force to rock it. Harbid and Thrawn exchanged a worried look, and he knew what they were thinking. An Imperial Class-II Star Destroyer was huge, well-defended, hardly easy to budge; in other words, nothing in the galaxy could make it move like that besides another ship hitting it. Thrawn hit the intercom just as the alert sirens and lights started, signaling all crew to battle stations.

"This is Grand Admiral Thrawn. Status report."

Commander Ardiff's voice was the one that came back, but Levi could hear Quenton giving orders in the background.

"We're under attack by an unidentifiable fleet. They hit two of our sentry ships coming out of hyperspace. The ships are no known make or affiliation, not responding to our hails, not broadcasting ID."

Hell. Their intelligence hadn't suggested the Rebellion was trying anything, and a quick glance across the table showed that this was a complete surprise to the Skywalker twins and the Noghri. Thrawn seemed to have come to the same conclusion after studying them with narrowed eyes.

"I'm on my way," he said, and signed off the comm as he stood. "I'm afraid I must insist that you accompany us to the bridge, for your safety and ours."

The other party exchanged a glance, but nodded and followed the Imperials into the turbolift. "Stick close to the Dynasts," he murmured to Levi as they all stepped in. "Don't let them out of your sight. I'll call Major Zakarius to the bridge when we get there."

It made sense to exercise caution, and that Thrawn might be worried, given what had happened the last time a Noghri had been on the bridge. Levi nodded once. "Yes, sir," he answered quietly.

When they arrived on the bridge Levi kept the Dynasts in the aft section as Thrawn and Harbid moved forward to their battle stations and Erwin moved into the port-side crew pit to assist the Intelligence duty officer there. The stormtroopers on guard made it a little easier for him to breathe, and some of the Imperial Security Bureau personnel had come out of their room to assist.

Skywalker and Organa Solo were staring out at the closest viewport, a strange look on their faces that help Levi's attention momentarily and made his skin crawl. Whatever their Jedi senses were picking up, it wasn't good. The Noghri saw it too. "What do you sense, son of Vader?" One of the little gray-skinned killers asked.

Vader.

Oh.

Levi made a mental note to file that revelation away to tell the Grand Admiral later.

"I'm not sure," he replied, looking about as uncertain as Levi had ever seen another man look. "Something about those ships is way off."

"I sense it too," Organa Solo murmured.

All six of them stepped closer to the viewport ignoring the shuttle operations crew member who gave them all a strange look. Levi carefully kept himself between the Noghri and Thrawn, and when Mike joined them a moment later, he joined Levi at his defensive position. Whoever this fleet belonged to, they were clearly no match for the Grand Admiral's tactics, but the destruction of half their ships already wasn't stopping them from determinedly trying to land their forces on the planet's surface or blast away at Nystao.

Levi caught a glimpse at Thrawn's tense face as he ordered their fighters to go after the ship that was driving hard into the atmosphere, and he wondered why he looked as worried as the Jedi until it clicked.

Captain Pellaeon and Organa Solo's infants were still down there.

– – – – –

After hearing what sounded like turbolaser fire, the very last thing Pellaeon might have expected was for his door to be opened and several Noghri to pour into the cell with two crying infants in tow. "We're under attack from an unknown force, one of them explained as he shoved a wailing infant into the Human's arms. The other one was handed over, and Pellaeon made a slight face. How the hell was he supposed to juggle two crying babies?

It had been a few years since he'd last held a baby; Pellaeon's nieces and nephews were all adults now, and he hadn't seen a baby since his eldest niece had given birth shortly before Endor. "The trick is to put one on each shoulder," one of the Noghri informed him. She helped him adjust the children before stepping back to point a blaster rifle at the door. Skywalker's protocol droid was shoved behind them, complaining all the while, as the Noghri sealed the door. There was no sound but that of the babies crying for a few moments, and then the muffled sounds of a firefight from the upper levels of the space station were audible.

"How did they get passed the blockade?" he murmured quietly, not wanting to alarm the slowly quieting babies.

"We're not certain," the Noghri who shoved the babies at him replied tersely. "The Imperial Fleet had just engaged the enemy when we were sent here to protect you and the children."

At least that likely meant Thrawn was alive and in charge up there. There was a good chance he would route them and have them all out of there in no time. Pellaeon did his best to keep up his faith in the man, and to ignore the sound of enemy fire coming steadily closer.

– – – – –

The communications officers had been jamming transmissions throughout their blockade, and had been able to verify that their attackers were not able to communicate. Despite that, they were moving with a bizarre amount of coordination. The battle was still going in their favor, but Levi could see it wasn't going as smoothly as it could.

"How the hell are they communicating?" Levi murmured. All of their scans had confirmed that they were Humans only, and no special modifications had been made to their ships.

Next to him, Skywalker had his eyes closed, likely to help block out the chaos of the bridge, and appeared to be doing one of those creepy Jedi things. Levi just hoped he wasn't doing anything to the crew. They'd had enough of that with C'baoth. He needn't have worried. After a moment, his eyes popped open again, incredulity all over his farm boy face. He looked over and down at Levi.

"There are Jedi on that ship," he breathed, tone betraying his confusion and his hope. "That's how they're communicating."

"Are you sure?" he murmured back.

Though Skywalker's face was still completely bemused, he nodded. "I'm positive."

That was information Thrawn needed, but Levi didn't want to incite the bridge crew to a panic. "Okay, just don't say anything about it any louder," he replied quietly as he pulled out his data pad. "The bridge crew had to deal with C'baoth the most out of all of us and they're pretty jumpy about it still."

Quickly, he sent a message to Thrawn under the Intelligence encryption relaying that information and that one of the Dynasts had reverently referred to Luke as the 'son of Vader', and flagged it as urgent and Eyes Only. Grand Admiral Thrawn read it over, glanced over at Levi. Levi met his gaze and nodded briefly to confirm he had sent it, and Thrawn turned back to his displays to begin tapping out a new set of orders. Privately, Levi hoped that wouldn't make him badly want to bring one in to have a look at Eren.

Those fears were dashed when the written order – not spoken, thanks to their "guests" – came over his data pad rescinding an earlier order to take prisoners; instead, Thrawn had ordered them to leave none alive.

– – – – –

With permission to use lethal force at will given to all ships, it didn't take long at all for the Imperials to decimate the enemy forces. Rescue ships were sent out to look for survivors, but had been instructed to simply kill any Jedi they found alive and only bring back their own people. Thrawn left the cleanup operation and the blockade in the hands of Captain Harbid after that to accompany the Jedi and Noghri back down to the surface. Mike along his squad plus Levi, and Levi brought Mikasa, Sasha, Jean, and three full squads of stormtroopers along to protect Grand Admiral Thrawn and assist in the cleanup efforts.

The ride down to the surface was tense, with the Rebels worried about the infants, the Noghri worried about their people, and Thrawn, presumably, worried about Captain Pellaeon. The telemetry data from the battle had indicated that a drop ship had landed outside of the spaceport and attempted to infiltrate it, but no one knew how bad the damage actually was. Once out of the shuttle, it became clear that there was plenty of reason to worry: Nystao was a mess. The Grand Duhka was nothing but rubble now, most of the nearby buildings were half-collapsed, and the tiny spaceport...

Grand Admiral Thrawn and the others were looking at it quite tensely. "Can you sense any survivors?" Levi heard him ask them quietly. Thrawn didn't take his red eyes off the building for a moment, seemingly content to let Mike order the soldiers around and task Levi's squad with protecting their leader.

Busy directing his subordinates into positions, including getting Sasha up as high as possible, Levi almost missed Skywalker's reply. He had tensed at Thrawn's question, but relaxed now as he opened his eyes. "There are five survivors, buried at the detention level: Jacen and Jaina, your captain, and two Noghri."

Organa Solo looked relieved, but concerned. With a cave-in like that, they could be running out of air. "Can you move enough of it?" she asked her brother.

Skywalker moved close to the wreckage, examined the base of it and the way the rubble had collapsed and shook his head. "I don't think I could do it without possibly making it worse. I'm not an engineer." He turned his head to look at Thrawn. "Do you have the equipment to dig this out?"

"If not, I have the manpower and the engineers," he said, and turned to Levi. Some of the tenseness had drained from Thrawn's face, now that he knew Pellaeon was still alive. Interesting. Well, they did spend a lot of time together, and Pellaeon was definitely his student. It was probably just a normal thing to worry about his safety, and he brushed it off as that. "Lieutenant Ackerman."

Levi straightened and took a step forward to attend to his superior. "Admiral?"

"Contact Captain Harbid. Tell him we need a heavy-duty cleanup crew to Nystao immediately, along with medical personnel to tend to the injured. If we don't have the equipment with us, we need manpower and engineers."

"Yes, sir," Levi replied, who nodded the order on to Ensign Kirstein. The younger man got on the comm immediately, relaying Grand Admiral Thrawn's orders in such a precise voice that was so different from his usual, sloppy, casual tone that it surprised Levi a little.

It only took half an hour of nervously waiting around for the machinery and crew to arrive. From there it took four hours to move enough of the twisted metal to get to the ceiling of the detention-level cell where Pellaeon had been kept, even with everyone helping. It took them another hour to safely get through the ceiling of the cell. The two living Noghri were injured but able to climb out mostly unaided. The babies and the captain, however, were a different story. Skywalker would be able to float the other three out, so he climbed down into the hole, and everyone else gathered around to watch.

The droid went first, just to get it out of the way. It looked like an old protocol droid, probably pre-Clone Wars, but kept in excellent condition. Whoever had built it had done a pretty decent job. Next, Skywalker had to move the bodies of the Noghri that had died sheltering the captain. From there, he was able to gently shift the captain.

"He's hurt! It looks pretty bad. Get a medical team over here."

Levi waved the order off to Jean, and they watched as Skywalker gently removed one of the babies from the captain's arms. It looked to Levi like he had been sheltering the little ones. With all the nieces and nephews the man had, it was no wonder he would have the protective instinct.

"How are Jacen and Jaina?" Organa Solo called down.

"They're fine. I'm sending Jacen up now."

The boy came first, and started crying about halfway up. Organa Solo clutched him to her tightly and knelt on the ground as the other wailing infant came up. One of the medics moved to kneel next to her to check on them and help calm them down.

Down below, Skywalker was doing a more thorough check on the captain's condition. There was quite a bit of blood, and Levi really hoped it belonged to the Noghri. They weren't so lucky "He's bleeding pretty badly from his thigh. If one of you can climb down here and carry him the rest of the way, I can keep pressure on it with the Force until you're up."

Levi knew Thrawn was still not permitted to any really heavy lifting thanks to his own bout with blood loss and severe injury, and Pellaeon, though only three inches taller than him, would be awkward for him to carry. "Major Zakarius," he called. "Come here, please."

Mike wasn't far away, and came jogging over to see what was needed. He looked down into the hole and swore viciously enough that Thrawn and Levi both nodded a little in agreement. That about summed it up. "Can you get down there and carry him part of the way, sir?" he asked, barely remembering to tack the "sir" onto the end. Mike climbed down immediately into a closer position with stable footing and let Skywalker lift him to him. True to his word, Skywalker kept pressure on the wound long enough for Mike to get him to the side of the two medics that were already hovering and waiting to help.

Thrawn had Kirstein call for a shuttle for an emergency e-vac as Mike, Levi, and the medics knelt to help. One of the medics covered him with a blanket to help with the shock, and they set to work trying to stem or stop the bleeding. It didn't look good at all. Thrawn crouched in the grass next to the captain as the medics tried every trick in the book to get the bleeding under control enough to move him to the _Chimaera_ for surgery to repair what appeared to be a cut that had also opened his femoral artery. He looked pretty worried, and Levi could understand that. In addition to the bad bleeding, Captain Pellaeon had clearly suffered a rather nasty blow to the head. That was bleeding too, but not as badly as his thigh. He was covered in cuts and bruises – and that was just what could be seen around the high coverage of his uniform.

The medics tried calling to him, talking to him, to get him to wake up, but weren't getting any response. His pulse was weak and his heart rate was too fast. Pellaeon was breathing shallowly, quick breaths, and Levi never knew a tanned man could end up looking as pale as the Grand Admiral's uniform so fast. Every Imperial in the vicinity, except Levi's own team who were doing their duty despite any worries they may have had, was watching with baited breath as the medics worked. If they lost him, it would be a huge blow to Fleet morale. Pellaeon was well-loved and highly respected, even in the other military branches. Losing him would be something they couldn't afford right now.

The shuttle arrived for Pellaeon just before they managed to slow the bleeding enough to move him. Thrawn left Mike in charge on the surface and went back up on the shuttle with him. Levi and his squad followed along. Thrawn sat out of the medics' way, unmoving, just watching the medics fight for Pellaeon's life with a grim look on his face. Until then, Levi hadn't thought anything could scare the man. Apparently there was one thing that could. He cataloged that bit of information away for later use. Erwin would know what to do with it.

Pellaeon was taken away for treatment, and Levi left Mikasa and Sasha to guard Pellaeon, along with four stormtroopers, while he and Jean accompanied Grand Admiral Thrawn to the bridge.

Erwin was still on the bridge with Captain Harbid, or so Levi suspected. The Ubiqtorate had formally put Erwin in command of the _Chimaera's_ Intelligence section, but as this was the Grand Admiral's flagship, it was a mobile military base. That made this ship military HQ for Thrawn's faction of the Fleet, and that meant Erwin's job included coordinating all the intelligence from the other sections in the Fleet.

Captain Harbid was having the communications officers relay orders and information, and Thrawn headed right for him. Levi stationed Jean at the turbolift and stepped patiently to the right of it to wait on Erwin. Commander Smith was at the aft bridge hologram pod speaking with the Lieutenant Commanders that headed the other ships' Intelligence groups, instructing them on which squads to send to the planet and which to help with the cleanup in space. When Erwin was finished Levi jerked his head toward the officer's meeting room, and Erwin nodded and stepped inside with him.

"How's the captain?" Erwin asked as soon as the door slid shut. The taller man looked exhausted.

Levi shook his head. "It's too soon to say. He's in surgery. I left Mikasa and Ensign Braus down there for his safety, along with a few stormtroopers. Any luck up here?"

Erwin made a face. "No. It seems that if a ship was hit, the navicomputers and records were programmed to self-destruct, which is what they did. There isn't even anything we can salvage so far. We have nothing but bodies, but our sick bays are full of injured pilots and crew so the medics won't be able to examine them for awhile." The blond leaned against the bulkhead wall and leaned his head back to rest against the cool metal.

"So what exactly is Captain Pellaeon's condition?" he asked after a moment of silence.

Levi made a face and slumped into the closest chair. "He lost a ilot/i of blood," he reported. "Something about the rubble cutting his thigh and opening his femoral artery slightly. He's unconscious from a blow to the head, probably from protecting the Solo twins from the collapse of the building. Bruises were everywhere I could see, so it's a safe bet he'll be hanging out in a bacta tank for awhile after they repair the artery – if they can. Thrawn looked pretty fucking worried about it."

Levi sighed and folded his arms on the table. His head dropped into them, slightly pushing his uniform hat up his forehead. "It's a huge fucking mess down there, Erwin. Those Jedi, if that's what they were, really made an effort to devastate Nystao. Did you figure out how they were communicating?"

Erwin shook his head, and for a moment the man looked so weary that he actually looked his full forty years for a change. "No, but if they were Force-sensitive they could have been communicating mind-to-mind and we'd have no way to intercept it."

"Great," Levi said with a roll of his eyes. "Ships full of crazy, arrogant, mind-reading scum, and we barely have any ysalamiri aboard our ships these days."

"I'm sure Grand Admiral Thrawn will have us get more if that's what he decides needs to be done to protect his troops. He's not Vader, Levi. He won't let anyone hurt his people if he can help it and the reward isn't a hell of a lot more than the loss."

Levi yawned, and turned his head to face Erwin. "You almost wouldn't think he was a ruthless Warlord some days," he replied. "He's somehow more like a father to me than my actual father. I've heard a lot of people saying that kind of thing lately."

"Your actual father was a mass-murdering serial killer," Erwin reminded him with a small smile. "But I see your point. Discipline and rewards, just as a father should dole out. You look ready to drop. Go give your squad a rotating guard schedule for Captain Pellaeon and Grand Admiral Thrawn and then get some rest. You're all on guard duty for the foreseeable future."

"I'll rest if you do," Levi replied, for once not caring about being stuck playing babysitter. "If I look ready to drop, you look ready to fucking die."

Erwin gave him a small smile. "As soon as I deliver my report to Grand Admiral Thrawn I'll get some sleep. Satisfied?"

He'd have to be, wouldn't he? Levi wasn't even sure how he'd managed to stay awake enough long enough to issue orders to his own squad, let alone check on Erwin. "Okay, fine, but you'd better do it, old man," he said, standing and stretching.

"I will," Erwin said. "Go on, you're dismissed."

"Yes, sir," Levi said, and headed for the turbolift.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time the Captain came out of the bacta tank and the induced coma two days later, the damage left in the aftermath of the attack had been dealt with properly, the wreckage and bodies collected and analyzed, and all reports filed and processed. Intelligence had begun aggressively pursuing the attacker's back trail and chasing down the two vectors the survivors had used in their escape. They had traced the lettering on the sides of the ships to six previous ports and were still digging.

Pellaeon was too tired to care much about any of that yet, but he had a feeling no one was expecting him to. Commander Smith gave the Intelligence briefing in Pellaeon's sick bay room amongst all the medical equipment, mostly because the captain had just woken up and Grand Admiral Thrawn quietly refused to leave his side for awhile. The commander kept himself at parade rest while Grand Admiral Thrawn sat in what looked like the most uncomfortable chair in the entire Fleet. The captain was trying his best to stay awake and focus, but the other two men doubtlessly noticed that he fell asleep several times.

As nice as it was to have a better idea of what had happened, Pellaeon was glad when Smith was gone and it was just himself and Thrawn in the room. It was hard enough to focus on one visitor – two visitors were one too many for him at the moment. Despite the bacta treatment, blood transfusion, and a continual IV drip made of a solution that was part bacta and part saline, the health complications caused by blood loss, and concussions took time to heal.

There was a heavy silence between them for awhile as they quietly studied each other, each trying to think of what they wanted to say. Usually Pellaeon left it up to Thrawn to break the silence; this time, he surprised them both by being the one to break it with the one thought his heavily drugged mind could focus on. "You're still not sleeping enough," he accused, thought it couldn't have seemed like a very serious accusation when it was followed by a yawn.

"I've made several solid attempts to do so since you so boldly brought it up before, but I've yet to sleep for more than an hour or two at a time," Thrawn admitted calmly. "Too many things require my attention right now."

Pellaeon scowled a little at the admission, but he was too out of it to really have much control over his face muscles. For a human to run on such little sleep would be debilitating, but perhaps Grand Admiral Thrawn's mystery species didn't need six to eight hours like most adult humans generally required. Thrawn must have found his pathetic attempts at a scowl amusing, if that smile was anything to go by. "There's no need for you to concern yourself with my health. I want you focused on taking care of yourself for now. You've been through quite a lot in the last two weeks."

That was the understatement of the century. Pellaeon thankfully didn't remember much regarding his imprisonment on Honoghr at the hands of the traitorous Noghri people. The doctors had said something about the concussion being responsible for that if he remembered correctly... or had that been a dream? "I remember something about... negotiations?" he asked, squinting a little at Thrawn as he tried to remember if that was indeed the correct word or not.

"Yes, you tried to talk me out of it," Thrawn said. "Fortunately for your wishes we were attacked in the middle of our first meeting. We may resume them soon, we may not, but this time you _will_ be remaining on the _Chimaera_ whether they like it or not." His face tightened and his lips compressed slightly, as though the memory pained or displeased him.

Pellaeon gave Thrawn a rather apologetic, if exhausted, look "I'm sorry," he said quietly. He'd meant to go on further, but his eyes were getting heavy. As much as he was trying to remain awake, Pellaeon didn't think it was going to happen.

Grand Admiral Thrawn seemed to get the hint, and stood. His hand, surprisingly warm, brushed over the captain's forehead. "Get some sleep," he said. "And don't be sorry. We'll discuss it when you're more fully awake and not so full of medicine."

If he had been more fully awake, Pellaeon would have probably admitted that was the better plan. He tried to nod, couldn't move his head, and made a disgruntled noise. "Okay," he managed. The warm hand on his forehead lingered only a moment longer, but by the time Thrawn had moved away, he was already asleep.

– – – – –

The next time Pellaeon saw his superior officer it was the middle of the next morning. Typically he was an early riser, usually up for his duties by 0600, but the exhaustion and drugs overrode all the years of being up at a specific time, and the medics let him sleep as late as his body wanted. The pain from the surgery had dulled rather significantly overnight, but a throbbing headache, significant dizziness, and some nausea had crept into his body in its place. He was still rather easily confused, but the bacta treatments had helped. Thrawn came down just in time to see the captain refusing anymore food from the medics and lying back down in a huff as they left.

"You seem to have a little more fight in you today," Thrawn commented, taking up a seat next to his bed. Pellaeon gave the seat a dirty look. That looked really uncomfortable... Had he thought that before? "I take it they reduced your medication?"

"Yes. They wanted to make sure the amnesia was brought on by the concussion and not because they had me on so many different narcotics." He'd wanted to nod, but moving his head made him feel like he was going to die.

Thrawn frowned, just a little. "Is it?"

Pellaeon sighed. "Unfortunately. I don't remember much of my imprisonment at all, except that I think Organa Solo told me why the Noghri switched sides. I don't remember the details, just that it was important to find a way to tell you." He looked down at his hands. Whatever it was, it was staying just out of his mental reach.

"Lieutenant Ackerman overheard one of them calling Skywalker the 'son of Vader'. Considering how much they worshiped Lord Vader, I think we know what happened on Kashyyyk." Thrawn looked rather put out. "It was a stupid mistake on my part, not to realize they might find out who she is. We'll need to disabuse them of the notion that Lord Vader was innocent, of course, since he's the one who initially orchestrated their enslavement. It might even help in the negotiations if I decide to continue them."

The negotiations. Right.

He lifted his eyes to meet Thrawn's, and managed to look rather apologetic but could only hold the gaze for a moment before he closed his eyes and looked away. When he opened his eyes again a moment later to avoid falling asleep, Thrawn had shifted in that godawful chair leaning forward so that his elbows were on his knees and his hands clasped between them. "There's no need for you to look so guilty; after all, none of this was your fault." The look on his face was more candid than Pellaeon had even seen him.

Their eyes met briefly, and Pellaeon was awake enough today to realize that when Thrawn broke eye contact it was to glance anxiously at the tubes or monitoring equipment. Just how close to death had he come, that Thrawn seemed worried Pellaeon was about to just roll over and die on him? "Commander Smith has determined that the Noghri targeted you specifically," Thrawn continued tone firmly insistent, but gentle, "and the Dynasts confirmed it. Rukh didn't manage to kill me, so they thought they would use you as leverage because they mistakenly assumed that forcing me into paying reparations will humiliate me and damage the Empire. This had nothing to do with you, Captain, and I'm sorry you were caught in the middle."

Thrawn wasn't angry? Pellaeon blinked sleepily up at him. That was good. "I was worried you'd be angry," he murmured, relief on his face.

"I am angry, but not with you," Thrawn soothed. "I'm more concerned for your well-being, given the extent of the injuries you sustained in the assault."

Oh. Those. Pellaeon had asked what was wrong so many times that the chief medic had written it on a lightboard across from the bed for him because he kept forgetting things. Right. The concussion and blood loss. He thought about it, tried to be patient as his mind slowly processed the thought. Pellaeon gave Thrawn a considering look, taking in the smallest hint of guilt on his face. "You've been beating yourself up over it," he observed.

Thrawn tilted his head slightly, and looked fairly bemused at the expression. There were so many words and phrases in Basic that most Humans didn't know all of them either, and while Thrawn was fluent in Basic and spoke it very well, it wasn't his first, second, or even his third language. Maybe they didn't have the concept on his home planet. "I've not heard that expression before. What does it mean?"

Thinking through the headache to define it was difficult, but Pellaeon managed after a moment of thought in which Thrawn waited with all the patience in the galaxy. "It means that you blame yourself for what has happened to such an extent that thinking about it has because a sort of self-inflicted punishment as you consider the 'what-ifs'."

Leaning back in his seat, Thrawn gave Pellaeon an evaluating look that gave the injured and exhausted man the impression that he had guessed correctly. Thrawn looked a little floored, as though he hadn't expected anybody to see through the mask of perfectly cultured gentleman to find the mortal underneath. "Is that why you aren't sleeping well?" Pellaeon pressed, too tired to give a damn about boundaries. It wasn't like he would be returning to duty for at least a couple weeks, and anyway, Thrawn had always forgiven him for calling the man out in the past. There was no reason to think right now would be any different.

He'd expected Thrawn to deny it or change the subject on him. Perhaps it was a measure of Thrawn's exhaustion that he answered honestly. "A little – mostly it's dealing with the aftermath. We still don't know who these Force-sensitives are. Master Skywalker even accompanied the TIE squadron I sent out on reconnaissance around the system to see if he could sense any others we might question. I've also been frequently dealing directly with Organa Solo: she's trying to convince me to allow her to summon her husband and a Rebellion task force for added safety precautions."

"Tell me you refused," Pellaeon mumbled. His eyes were feeling heavy again, and he forced them open.

One of the monitors beeped, and Thrawn's glowing eyes darted over to it. Dimly, he realized Thrawn really had been – and still was – worried about his health in a way no one had been in years. It was nice – no, that made it sound cheap. The concern was moving, even with medicine and exhaustion limiting his inhibitions, it was perhaps more touching than Pellaeon might have otherwise allowed himself to find it. Having the trust and concern of a superior officer he so greatly respected and admired was something to which he was unaccustomed. For that superior to be the remaining and most brilliant of the Emperor's thirteen Warlords was an honor.

"Intelligence hasn't even determined where the leak is on our side. There's no way we can trust the less-competent Rebellion Intelligence units to know who their traitors are. Commander Smith is still trying to determine if these two incidents are connected."

"And if there are Jedi-sympathizers, they're more likely to have a stronger foothold amongst the Rebel troops who admire Skywalker," Pellaeon added, fighting to keep his eyes open the whole time. Trying to think through the fog of exhaustion that was beginning to encroach on him again was difficult, but it was a welcome distraction from the pain in his head and the pain of his own guilt.

"Precisely," Thrawn said, and favored Pellaeon with a small smile. "That said, her children you so carefully protected would probably be safer elsewhere or with more people around."

Ah. Them. "They have powerful lungs," Pellaeon muttered as the memory of their cries hit. "I'd forgotten how loud infants can be."

That comment seemed to have caught Thrawn's interest. "You have experience with babies?" he asked, clearly curious.

Pellaeon nodded. His mouth was dry, and he tried to work moisture back into it with no luck. Thrawn noticed and moved to help him take a few small sips of water. "I have five nephews, two nieces, six great-nieces, and 5 great-nephews."

A single blue-black eyebrow arched in mild surprise. "Are any of them in the Fleet?" he asked.

"My oldest nephew did a tour of duty, but retired to go into politics like his father. My youngest nephew is still trying to decide if he wants to go into the military or politics – or something else. My older brothers went into politics along with my younger sister, but my younger two brothers are military men, though they're stationed closer to their homes so they can help out with their families. None of their children are old enough to fight."

"Impressive," Thrawn replied, his smile showing a hint of fondness.

"Thank you," Pellaeon responded as he attempted to stifle a yawn and failed. Staying awake was no easy task right now, but he was so sick of sleeping, no matter how much the medics flat out insisted that he needed rest more than anything else right now.

Thrawn, apparently, was on the side of the medics. "I should let you rest," he remarked. "The medics said you'll likely be exhausted for another month or so."

"And I have to spend most of it on bed rest," Pellaeon grumbled.

Clearly amused, but apparently deciding to leave Pellaeon to his irritable mood until he fell asleep, Thrawn stood. "Yes, and they've already warned me that you'll be begging me for work to do within the week, or begging me to override their assessment of your physical condition so you can return to full duty." This was definitely entertaining to Thrawn.

"I have already given ship-wide orders that, for now, you are not to be bothered with anything work-related, and I'll dock the pay of anybody who disobeys. Your orders are to rest, Captain. Commander Smith and I will keep you updated."

Oh. Great. "You're all conspiring against me," he complained.

Grand Admiral Thrawn shrugged. "The medics and Commander Quenton assure me that your characteristic willfulness extends to this sort of thing as well. I've been informed you have a habit of attempting to pull rank to get your way into escaping sick bay. This time, please, just rest and heal."

"Yes, sir," he sighed. It turned into a yawn that was big enough to make him a little dizzy. Thrawn rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment, silently offering a bit of comfort. Blue skin was something most humans would expect to feel deathly cold, but Thrawn's hand was warm and comforting through the thin fabric of the white shirt the sick bay staff had put on him after surgery. Not leaning slightly in to the touch was impossible in that moment, warm and sleepy as he was.

A moment was all it lasted, and then Thrawn was gone and Pellaeon was left alone to drift back into a restful sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

In the end, Thrawn had capitulated and allow Leia to contact Han and let him know they had experienced a delay, though not necessarily the entire nature of the delay. The _Chimaera's_ communications officer had been able to mask the origin of the transmission so it wouldn't be obvious she was on a Star Destroyer, but her clever husband was suspicious anyway. Han responded by arriving with Chewie, Lando, and every last member of Rogue Squadron. She had been on the _Chimaera_ with Luke to discuss the progress of the cleanup on the ground with Thrawn and Commander Smith when Han jumped into the system with his escort. It had still taken her and Luke a good ten minutes to convince them that they were not being held aboard as prisoners, but all their attempts to explain that if they would just follow the instructions and dock, they would meet them right in the docking bay and explain everything failed.

While they tried to convince him, Thrawn ordered one of the hangar bays cleared and a ready room off of it prepared for a large group. He seemed fairly certain that they would agree, at least, but Leia wasn't sure she shared his confidence.

Han put them on hold to discuss it with Lando and Chewie, and Leia had a feeling he was going to do something monumentally stupid. Right now, it seemed to her like they might have a chance for peace, and if he did whatever he was planning, that would go out the window. She had an idea, one that might lure him aboard, but it made her a little nervous, given the history between them. Thrawn seemed to pick on her visual cues, and stepped closer when she gestured him over to the aft bridge hologram pod. Well, if he tried anything, Han and Rogue Squadron were right there.

"I have an idea," she said. "Have you ever held a baby?"

"Many times," Thrawn answered, clearly curious. "What do you have in mind?"

"I've got a feeling that he's about to try something stupid. Having him see you hold one of the kids will remind him that their lives are at stake here as well I can't think of any other way to convince him to not do something rash. You talk to him." Her eyes narrowed at him. "Understand that if you hurt her, you'll pay for it."

Thrawn looked more amused than threatened by that, and took the baby Luke offered him, complete with burp cloth just in case Jaina decided to add some color to his nice, white uniform. For an Imperial who presumably had no wife or husband or children, he was awfully good at handling an infant. It occurred to her that no one should look that good holding a baby, and no one who had tried to kidnap two of them multiple times had any business handling her children with such natural ease. Jaina just stuffed her fist in her mouth and cooed up at him. The men around them seemed surprised that their leader had ever even been around one, let alone could maintain an air of authority while holding an infant and cooing softly to it.

Even Captain Harbid seemed surprised, though entertained. She wondered what his second-in-command would think when word inevitably reached him. They still needed to thank him for saving the children, but she understood he was not up to visitors beyond one or two people yet.

Thrawn looked back up at her. "Do you think he'll listen to me?"

"He will if you're holding our daughter," she informed him, shifted Jacen to her other shoulder. Jaina ate more than her brother, but he was growing a little faster than her anyway, as though determined to show her up in some way already.

"Very well," he said, and stepped forward to the display to join the conversation. When the pause symbol vanished and Han's face came back, his jaw dropped and he gaped for a full minute.

Thrawn was a wise-tactician; she watched as he took advantage of her husband's silence, stopped cooing at the baby that was trying to devour his finger whole, and looked up at him. His face went from serious military professional cooing at a baby to charismatic politician in the span of a second. "Captain Solo," he greeted charmingly, ignoring the way Luke was quietly stifling laughter at Han's face. "I would appreciate it if you and your party would join us aboard the _Chimaera_ so we can safely jump to hyperspace together if someone attempts to attack us or your family again."

There was another moment of stunned silence, and then, "Yeah. Okay. Sure."

"Shut down your engines, please. My tractor beam operators will pull you all in." He waited until Han had acknowledge and disconnected before he turned to pass the order on to Captain Harbid. After that, he turned back to Leia. "That was rather innovative of you," he complimented. It was so strange to be reminded like this that the Imperials were people too. When she didn't reply right away, he gave her a small, amused smile.

"You're wondering how an evil Imperial Warlord could have possibly learned how to handle infants?" he guessed, and Leia nodded.

She considered her words carefully. "It's easy to forget that the other side of the war is also made of people with their own experiences and lives."

There was no refuting that he seemed to appreciate the honesty, carefully expressed though it was. "It can be, yes," he responded, glancing back down at Jaina as she cooed to get his attention and reached up to swat at his face. Probably going for his eyes, Leia thought. As much as the glow intimidated adults, a baby would probably just want to grab for them with no regard for what the blurry, glowing objects were. Thrawn hadn't made a move to give her back, and he wasn't harming her, so she decided to let him hold her awhile longer. "Is that your way of asking where I learned?"

Leia cracked a small smile. He was good at reading people, she'd give him that. It was a good thing he didn't have the Force on his side as well. "Yes," she answered.

Thrawn gave her a considering look, but seemed to decided there was no harm in telling her something, though he did it quietly. "I was adopted into a rather large family in my youth, and have nieces and nephews of my own. Many of my men are fathers, and I've spent time with some of their families as well, in the Unknown Regions and in the Empire itself."

"I was under the impression the Empire didn't typically allow children near their forces."

"It's a different set of circumstances," Thrawn said, "and it's my Empire now, and therefore my rules. If my men perform better and are happier when they have time to see their families, then they get to spend time with their families."

It surprised her, and it definitely showed on her face, but the conversation was interrupted by Captain Harbid. "Admiral, they're bringing them in now."

"Signal Commander Smith to meet us in the hangar bay," he directed. "Captain, you'll join us."

Harbid nodded the order off to one of the commanders – the one she recognized from Tatooine, and joined her, Luke, Thrawn, and the two young officers who seemed to be on bodyguard duty today. The two ensigns were young, definitely no older than twenty-five. She did like seeing that there were women in important positions serving aboard the _Chimaera_ now, and that they seemed to be treated just as well as their male counterparts. The young woman on duty today had short black hair, slightly tanned skinned, and a very serious demeanor. With her was a young man with short blonde hair and a darker tone to his undercut. They were two of the guards that she recognized had accompanied him to the planet's surface, and whenever they thought their senior officers weren't looking, they glanced curiously at the babies.

Jacen was starting to feel a little too heavy in her arms, and she passed him off to his uncle. Both hands would likely be needed to calm or hug Han. Thrawn held Jaina without complaint, and didn't seem to mind being chewed on and cooed to, or talking back to her. Harbid had the look of a man who was planning to tell this to somebody else later, Probably, she suspected, he would be telling Captain Pellaeon all about it, and she wondered what he would think about this.

When they stepped off the turbolift, Commander Smith was waiting for them. "They refuse to come out of their ships until they see you're really here, Councilor," he explained.

"A reasonable precaution," Thrawn said, as they stepped into the hangar bay and approached the Falcon as a group. Jaina was incredibly interested in all the new sights she could barely make out, but was also making the occasional grab for Grand Admiral Thrawn's code cylinders. Her hand was calmly and gently deflected each time.

Once Han and the others saw them, they cautiously came out of their ships, and banded together in front of them. He grabbed Leia and gave her a tight hug before pulling away and staring Thrawn down. Even with Jaina holding his finger hostage to suck on it, he looked positively regal and rather than it doing nothing to the aura of authority he gave off, it made him look even more assured and in control somehow. She heard one of the members of Rogue Squadron mutter about how weirdly attractive that was before they were hushed by Wedge.

Thrawn's group stepped closer now, his bodyguards close, but Harbid now on his right and Smith at his left. "Welcome aboard the _Chimaera_," he said, and gestured slightly with Jaina. "If you wouldn't mind taking her, Captain Solo?"

As though suspecting a trick, Han cautiously stepped forward and took his daughter, who seemed delighted to see him. He looked relieved to see her. Leia glanced up at Thrawn, wondering if he had held her that long solely to put her directly in Han's arm to reassure him, or if it was more to deter him from doing something stupid.

The Grand Admiral ignored the obvious tension from the rest of the men, turned up the charm to a reasonable level, and introduced himself and his group properly to the rest of them, including the ensigns charged with ensuring his continued existence and generally undamaged state. She introduced everyone in her group, and when the niceties were out of the way, he led them to the ready room that had been prepared earlier. Jaina fell asleep on the way there, and she was glad for that. Han probably wouldn't even raise his voice now.

She let the Imperials catch her friends and family up to speed, more interested in watching the reactions of them to the news. Corran Horn had the strangest look on his face whenever he looked at the Grand Admiral. Thrawn had looked him over and summarily dismissed him, but something about Corran's face... Did he know something about Thrawn? She made a mental note to ask him later, and turned her attention back to the briefing.

It turned out that not much had changed since she had last spoken with them about the attack. Though Intelligence knew precious little thanks to the damage that the mysterious attackers had done to their own computers, they had been able to confirm the rumors of their presence in a few previous systems they had tried to track them to. She'd expected that to be all, until Commander Smith turned the briefing over to Grand Admiral Thrawn.

"We believe we have managed to determine their world of origin. While we would like to go chasing after them ourselves, I'm afraid your government might not allow us to proceed." He pressed a button, and Leia leaned forward in anticipation as a hologram of a planet appeared over the table. There was a collective gasp, and then a long stretch of silence.

"Coruscant," Wedge breathed. His eyes were wide.

Thrawn nodded. "As it stands, this appears to be where the trail ends. Strategically, it makes sense. If the target was Councilor Organa Solo, Master Skywalker, and the children, someone on Coruscant would have the means to determine her schedule and notify others in her group. It's a good city in which to hide a large number of people, and I imagine most of the lowest levels are still wholly unexplored and unmapped. There have also been rumors coming out of the city's underground for years that remnants of the Jedi Order's library were moved to the lower levels to keep them safe from the Emperor and Lord Vader." Thrawn hesitated, glanced quickly at Luke, and then pressed on. "Among that library may have been a list of every Force-sensitive child in the galaxy at the time. It's feasible they are searching for it."

Thrawn paused to let the others in the room murmur in shock. Luke and Leia glanced at each other, and she could see the hope in his eyes at the thought of such a list or a cache of information. It was good news for them, and she could see why he'd hesitate to give it to them.

The murmuring died down after a couple of minutes, and Corran spoke up, eyes carefully watching Thrawn's face for a reaction. "You think they've infiltrated our government," he stated flatly, "or the military."

If Corran was looking for more than an approving look at his deduction, he didn't get one. "It's likely both," he said. "Jedi would have a hard time finding sympathy or trust amongst Imperial troops," he paused, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward for a moment, "especially amongst those of us who served directly under Lord Vader and knew his temper well. Captain Harbid and Captain Pellaeon both served under him for years, even during the Clone Wars, and can tell – and have told – any number of horror stories about it."

Harbid made a face, as though he really didn't want to be reminded about it. "Captain Pellaeon served under General Skywalker during the Clone Wars?" she asked incredulously.

"If you're still here when he's finally allowed visitors, you should ask him about it. He has quite a few good stories." He gave her a small, charming smile, and turned his attention back to the group at large. "But we're here to discuss a present problem, not the past. It's clear these attackers don't care who they hurt to get what they want. They collapsed the entire Nystao spaceport before they were gunned down by Noghri. Allowing them to run free as they are right now presents a grave threat to all of us, no matter our ideological differences."

Thrawn pressed his lips into a thin line and looked around the room at the assembled men, women and aliens. "I know we have our grievances, but I should hope that we're all capable of working together as adults to protect the galaxy as a whole. They cannot run around unchecked. Master Skywalker?"

Luke nodded and took a deep breath. She could sense his unease as he put forth the plan that he and Grand Admiral Thrawn had concocted. "I think I can sense their minds if I can get close enough to the group. I made the suggestion to Grand Admiral Thrawn, and he agreed, that taking small force out to try to ferret them out might work best."

Jensen frowned. "And who will this small group consist of?"

"Myself, two of you, and two personnel from the Chimaera."

It was Han who really spoke up to protest. "That sounds way too dangerous. It would be just you and four other people against a group of really determined Jedi, and you have no idea how powerful any of them are."

"It's necessary," Luke argued calmly. "We don't know why they specifically went for the spaceport; they could have been after Jacen and Jaina and if they were, they'll probably try again. It's a pretty safe bet they weren't after Captain Pellaeon – who saved Jacen's and Jaina's lives, by the way – because the _Chimaera_ hadn't planned to come here."

"Meaning that however they found out where Luke and I were, it had to be from a spy inside the Inner Council," Leia finished for Luke. Her tone was quiet, grave, and that meant it was perfectly honest in conveying how she felt about that.

Commander Smith picked it up from there. "The councilor has provided me with the rest of her schedule stops on this tour, and we have already sent several capable scout ships out to search. If they're waiting for another chance to attack, we'll be forewarned enough to warn her and to come up with a plan of attack to capture them."

Jaina stirred a little in Han's arms, and he responded by shifting her to his shoulder and patting her back. Han gave Leia a disbelieving look like she was utterly betraying them all and siding with the Empire, and she had a feeling they were going to have words about this later. "I don't understand what the Empire is getting out of this," he said bluntly. "If they're after my family, and they're in our territory and not yours, then what do you gain? How do we know you're not in league with the Jedi and looking to hand my family over them in exchange for their services?"

If the question – a jibe at Thrawn's use of the insane clone of the Jedi Master Jorus C'baoth – had annoyed or upset Thrawn in any way, the Grand Admiral didn't show it at all in his tone or body language. Harbid and Smith didn't even so much as twitch. "After having to tolerate Master C'baoth for months on end, I have no desire to work so closely with someone so dangerously ambitious ever again. The capture orders on your family were lifted weeks ago." He paused and quirked an eyebrow at Han.

"And since he's dead you decided to just let them go?" Lando asked.

Thrawn nodded. "Correct. I have no personal quarrel against any of you, and it would be foolish of me to waste our valuable people and resources on a manhunt that won't do us any good if it succeeds. I've also had them here for several days, and have not harmed them at all."

Han still didn't look satisfied, but he was plenty willing to let it go for the rest of the tactical meeting it seemed. He nodded, and dropped it.

– – – – –

The Rebels had decided to take Thrawn's invitation to spend the night on the ship to make it safer and easier to meet again the next day, and had given them access to a few of the ship's facilities, such as the mess halls, bunks, and refreshers. They were under heavy guard, but that didn't stop Corran from making his way to the observation area they were permitted with his stormtrooper guide. He needed to get away from the arguing of his companions for awhile, and this sounded like a good place to clear his head. Maybe the Grand Admiral had known or suspected he would come up, because he was the only other person in the room. Thrawn dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand, and the stormtrooper stepped out.

Thrawn was seated in a chair facing the large viewport, but he seemed to be more focused on his data pad and a stack of data cards next to him than he was the view. "It's been a long time, Corran Horn," Thrawn greeted.

"I knew you weren't Jodo Kast," Corran muttered. He accepted Thrawn's gestured invitation to the opposite chair, and sat down.

"You and your father were both fairly sharp," he said. "I was sorry to read about his passing."

The tone was so damn polite and cultured that it took Corran a second to notice the sincerity underneath what sounded like merely a political statement. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Between them, there was silence for a moment as Corran looked out at the planet below and the stars beyond. "Why did you take the mission?"

Thrawn glanced up at him again with a smile that wasn't friendly, but wasn't unkind either. "It was a favor for Lord Vader, in exchange for him gifting me with the Noghri. I thought it best to take care of it personally and expediently to avoid being in his debt any longer than necessary."

"Makes sense, given everything I've ever heard about him," Corran replied. Not once had he heard anybody say how much they liked the man. "I'd like to ask you another question, if I may."

"Go ahead."

Corran leaned forward a little in his seat. "Why did you join the Empire, given their stance on non-Humans."

"There are many non-Humans in the Empire," Thrawn dodged. He pressed his lips together for a moment as he considered the question, and Corran got the feeling no one ever really dared to ask him about it. The man seemed to decide there wasn't any harm in answering the question after a moment. "My chief reason was that I do not think a democracy like the Republic would work sufficiently well enough in a galaxy so large, with so many different races and cultures to defend against serious threats. The Old Republic was an excellent example of that. I may have had my disagreements with some of Emperor Palpatine's policies – particularly against non-Humans – but we shared a similar vision with a similar understanding of what threats the future might hold."

Threats, huh? Had he imagined the briefest look of fear on the alien's face? Probably. Men like Thrawn didn't show fear, especially not to an enemy, even if they'd worked well together once in the past. "Such as?" he prompted when Thrawn didn't elaborate.

"Corellians and their curiosity," Thrawn muttered with a slight shake of his head, though there didn't seem to be any actual frustration or malice there. He turned his attention back to the data pad. "It's too soon to worry about those. For now, there's another problem on our hands that must be dealt with swiftly. There's no need to overextend our resources worrying about what has not yet come to pass or may not come at all."

"I suppose you're right about that," he conceded, and shifted position slightly as he changed the topic. He got the feeling Thrawn wasn't going to answer that one even if he pressed him for answers. "I heard you were in the Unknown Regions before. What's it like out there?"

"Beautiful," Thrawn answered him, signing off on something. "There are thousands of worlds unexplored and uninhabited, and even more that are inhabited by interesting and intelligent life forms." His lip quirked upward slightly, though he didn't look up. "Some of the cultures have artists that could have given Venthan Chassu a run for his money... and some that would have made Zekka Thyne's taste in art and décor look rather high class."

Corran blanched at the memory. "Don't remind me," he said. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forget it, but that doesn't mean I can't try. 'Taste' is way too generous a word to describe the horrors he liked."

Thrawn snorted softly, and switched out the data cards. "Too true. I spent hours looking at _actual_ art when I returned to the _Admonitor_ attempting to get the memory out of my mind. I still think of it sometimes, and it's still horrifying."

"Some things are too disgusting to ever forget," Corran commented. He stood and stretched. "I suppose I should head back before they start to think you've killed me."

"I'm too busy running an Empire to murder anybody tonight," Thrawn replied dryly, looking up at him. "I imagine your own top military officers have plenty of their own administrative work to do – and that's only for a military."

Corran frowned. "So you have to handle the political stuff too?"

"Some of it. I prefer to leave the systems to their own politics and government, but sometimes someone needs to step in. Sleep well, Corran. You have a long day ahead of you. We'll speak again tomorrow."

That was a dismissal. He nodded. "Goodnight," he said, not sure what else to say, and let his escort take him back to the others, trying to fit the conversation and the memory of Thrawn masquerading as Jodo Kast with his current image of the Empire before the next round of meetings and planning started tomorrow.

* * *

I've got some new RP blogs. You should check them out and send me asks, even anonymously if you must:

-Ask-the-Empire. Ask it anything you want!

-RP blog for Captain Pellaeon. Asks, RPs, gardening.

-RP blog for Grand Admiral Thrawn. Art, asks, RPs.


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